8 Days of Boo
by rookieD
Summary: (Post 3.13). (Multi-chapter). (Complete). Follows the moments and movements of Sam as he comes to terms with Andy's sudden departure. Includes hints to friendships with the ensemble, as well as Sam's love for McNally - and a certain hound named Boo. Minor language and sexual references.
1. 8 Days, and Boo

AN: I just really needed to get some Sam stuff off my chest. 3.13 left me as heartbroken as I'm sure it did Sam. So…I think he deserves to know that lots of people have his back. If Andy gets a break-up buddy, so should he! That said, I am of the theory that the Sam/Andy heart _will_ be repaired in Season 4 – and then there truly will be…no turning back!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

_It's on the 7__th__ day post-McNally-riding-off-into-taskforce-sunset that Sam came anywhere near to being out of a funk._

_Things he'd punished himself about a whole lot of minutes before the 7__th__ day:_

_Not telling her before._

_Not saying it the exact-fucking-way he wanted to..._

_Not handling… _

_his shit…._

_Not handling any or all of his shit. _

_None of it. _

_Not __**before**__ her. _

_Not __**for**__ her. _

_Not __**with**__ her._

_Yep. From Day 1: he declared himself a true idiot and fool._

…...

When Nash rocked up to the bar _the first night_ - all wide-eyed at the sight of all the loneliness making a dent at the bar – she'd approached them with the familiar quiet, gentle, cautious, firm - that he respected - and knew Jerry loved so much.

Her lips had hardly moved when she ordered them all a shot. She let them take it (took herself one too), before she chanced a glance from him, to Peck, and back again:

"I turned down the taskforce."

Sam remembers swinging his whole body to watch her closely, silently checking for tells. She avoided eye contact with him -

- ordered a few more shots instead.

Sam could bring himself to do not much but slowly nod his dumb-ass head.

...

It was Nash that got him home that night. Both of them silent all the way, (save her parting sentiment):

"I'm really gonna miss her, Sam"

Sam, for his useless part, just kept nodding his head.

He'd had the car door almost closed – before finding himself somehow sitting beside her again.

They'd stared out the windscreen - front and centre - for a really long time… some waifish pop tune reminding Sam of his current pre-sets playing low on the radio.

Sam cleared his throat finally, forming the words that should have come some months ago, "I'm sorry. I dropped the ball in more ways than one… You and Leo ever need anything…you let me know."

He got himself off to sleep with a bottle of scotch at the side of his bed – scrolling through old messages from Andy, and looking at the photos he'd taken that one time way back...when he'd caught her washing his truck.

...

The next day swung between numbness and pain. Outside of the occasional lunatic thought - _track her down, show her, hate her, never throw caution to the wind and trust anything or anyone – especially himself - ever, ever again_ – he simply laid on his couch mourning – regretting the loss of what could (or should) have been.

...

The third day was spent devoted to punishing himself.

Sam told Frank to let him ride with Epstein - then proceeded to ask the kid to talk him through all of his own break-up stories…

(of which there were 3).

...

Night four he found himself waiting for Ollie on the Shaw's couch. Zoe was shooting some inane BS quietly in the background to anyone that would listen, while Izzy stayed tuned into the tail end of her marathon session of last season Grey's.

"Shonda Rhimes seriously needs to re-think her life choices," Izzy sobbed – hurling a cushion Sam's way. "She was **his** person. His **person**, Sam."

Sam stared at the screen and blinked once or twice. He put his hand on Izzy's shoulder and gripped his Goddaughter firmly - as together they watched Lexie die.

"Ready to go, brother?" he heard Ollie cut in. "I heard some hot dogs with extra mustard are calling my name."

...

The fifth night was garbage night.

Sam spent a good hour or two cleaning out the truck and house before he took all his trash to the kerb.

He went for a run straight after - found himself at McNally's and took her bin out before he ran the extra 15 minutes to Nash's to fix hers too.

His shower that night finally left him feeling just a little more clean.

...

Day six, he'd done some intel. Got pointed in the direction of another ex-rookie of Callaghan's from 15. (Sam, for all it counts, remembered her as soon as he heard her name – Alana Jones).

He met her halfway for coffee, told her enough to let her fill in the gaps before handing over the tattered book he'd pulled off his shelf that morning.

He watched her smile, before passing across the envelope that contained some keys.

"Anything else, Swarek?"

Sam shook his head.

Turning as she walked away, Jones caught him by surprise "Confession: I had a crush on you when I was with Callaghan. But. You know. Well – you and Lucy were together back then". Throwing him a smile, she sighed - "she's a lucky girl – just stop being so God-damn hard on yourself".

...

He opened his work email late afternoon on the 7th day – skimming over the departmental-propaganda and crap.

The message from Jones sat somewhere in the middle, marked high priority:

_Swarek,_

_DJ smiled… and said "thanks"._

_All the best,_

_Jones._

Deleting the email, he waved to catch attention of Diaz walking past. "Hey, in the mood to shoot some hoops?"

...

The next morning Sam rocked up to work with a clear head. He invited himself to a one-on-one with Frank, telling the new father he owed him a cigar.

Frank gave him all the time in the world; they chewed the fat outside the imposition of the divisional doors.

Frank flashed a huge grin and gave a pat on the back when Sam spoke at length of his profession by way of a future plan.

"Boss," Sam paused as they walked back in the door. "You mind if I have tomorrow morning off?"

"Not at all, somewhere you have to be?" Frank studied him closely, but without too much concern.

"Yep. Gotta go see a man about a dog," Sam said with his first real grin in days as he strode further along.

He spied Nash at the coffee station cursing a piping hot cup. "Nash," he said, plucking the cup from her hands and taking a careful sip. "Thanks," he smirked as she looked on with her own open mouth grin. "Hey. What do you know about mutts?"


	2. Bottle Shock, or Nash

AN1: Thanks for the reviews - you are all lovely and the best, I tell you!

AN2: Hmm. Well, this came out as a scene, rather than a drabble/moment/thoughts from Sam's head. But hopefully you can still pick up where I do think his head is at – lol!

**Disclaimer – I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

He's got his head in his hands (trying to talk himself off of some sort of McNally induced proverbial ledge) when he feels a sharp, boney finger poke at his shoulder.

"Yo. Swarek. Leo wants to know if he can throw some ball to Boo at the park today."

(A couple of days after Sam picked Boo up from the pound, they did a meet-the-family sort of deal with Nash and her kid. Turned into an easy two hour distraction for the lot of them – Nash shit-stirring Sam about what sort of D she thought he might be while the dog and the boy chased after a flat tennis ball they'd found.

In the few weeks since then, they've struck up an easy friendship – mainly shared the stories about goofball moments Jerry and Andy style - over the odd drink at The Penny or a game of pool…they'd also had the occasional bout of boxing together when either one of them felt like shit).

Sam blows out some air, considering. "Not unless you give me cheat notes for the exam."

Nash rolls her eyes (even harder than Andy ever would) "Don't even think you fool me, Swarek. I know you've been working your ass off with that shit".

Sam snorts, takes a peep at his computer screen.

He feels Nash's eyes narrow at the side of his head, bites his lip as she clucks, "what gives?"

Next thing he knows she's right the heck over his shoulder – face peering front and forward - suspiciously - at his emails.

They both go for the mouse at the same time – Sam rushing for delete, 'Detective' Nash all over it with the same tenacity that he saw her work with on that last ugly case.

He waits for a gasp - cops an air-swing to his head instead. "You've got to be kidding me. Sam!"

The four unis in their vicinity all turn their heads.

"Keep it down," Sam whispers regaining some of his composure (despite the fact that he's unbelieving of his own general stupidity right now).

"What the ever loving…. You told me one message. ONE"- ooh boy, Sam is trying to keep his face from breaking, but she's adopted that tone of voice she used with the serial killer they managed to track down a week ago.

Sam hits delete – several times, before he bounces out of his chair - Nash hot on his heels as they make their way into Interview 1.

...

"Trace," he starts…then stops (realising that little gaffe), watching on as she doubles over laughing… finally manages to haul herself back online.

"Don't '_Trace_', me… _McSwarek_".

Sam swears…he straight out effing _giggles_ at her – manages to disguise it with a snort and simultaneous kick to the empty suspect chair.

Nash is all back to business before he knows it, pulling the chair out further and pushing him down to a "sit".

She goes the long way around - slowly - until she reaches her standard interrogation spot.

…

_(The confession to her about the first coded gifts to McNally didn't take much – _

_Three days after the ball in the park, Leo wanted to help take Boo for a walk. Nash stopped talking – and walking - in mid-sentence … of some blowing off of steam after Jerry's ex had been in touch: _

_"You know where Andy is," she stated without a semblance of questioning in sight._

_He'd told her "no," but didn't even attempt to go down with a lie (he really respects Nash and her own honesty is the thing). "But I did need to make sure she knew that I wouldn't give up without a fight". -_

_- Nash's face seriously split in two when he told her he'd channelled through the book and his keys. Nash stood back and looked him up and down for an awkward moment or two - told Sam she would've gagged at the sap... had it not been something that reminded her of what Jerry might do._

_"I don't know all the details. I only know enough to keep checking that she'll be okay". He'd grabbed Nash's arm to make sure he had her full attention "You didn't ask me – I didn't tell you". _

_Nash had then turned and jogged backward to catch up with Leo – all the while setting forth on Sam with a barrage of rules, conditions, and "keep the hell aways")._

…

Sitting here with her now… well. He thinks this little pseudo interrogation might go a similar way.

They sit there in silence for a good 3 minutes before Sam finally breaks (really can't help himself – really is happy for Nash's capacity to dish out her direct but no bullshit support).

"You saw the email. That's all there was" Sam says making a play with his best poker face.

(Bloody Jones and her emails – she could've called him up. This one? High priority again – whatever code that means this time around.

_Swarek,_

_DJ insisted that I made sure you knew… she __**loves**__ the book._

_Take care,_

_Jones_).

Nash doesn't blink an eye.

"Serious. It's the first I've heard since - _then_." And he is serious. He's been keeping his head down. Hitting the gym early, working day shifts, doing the D stuff at nights, walking Boo any chance he gets. He's even taken up every single dinner invite hurled his way by Ollie…and Frank and Noelle. Godssake, he barely stopped himself short of inviting Diaz and Epstein into Poker Night recently.

Nash narrows her eyes, takes a good long hard look at him before she finally crosses her arms and leans on the table, asks him very, very cautious – like he's holding an effing grenade "are you going to send anything…words or otherwise…back?"

They stay looking at one another for a while – neither daring a blink.

Swarek can't answer the question with any sort of godforsaken confidence. "Honestly? I don't know. I have no idea".

Nash sighs and shakes her head, her shoulders slump way on back.

She perks up again shortly after - opening up to plant her hands on the table – arms wide apart. "If I knew where she was I'd go punch her in the face right now."

Sam's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, stifles a surprised laugh.

Nash shoots him one of her easy grins and a loud laugh back.

…..

As they open the door to walk out of the room – talking what time to meet at the park – They come face to face with Peck.

She's looking at them suspiciously, won't let them past… "tell me everything you know."


	3. Once Pecked, Twice Shy

AN: Thanks for the reviews! I'm rushing to get this one up between deadlines for other things…so I hope it's not tooooo messy! (If you're reading my other story: Stubble, or Shave? the next chapter for that should be up soonish too).

**Disclaimer – I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

Sam wakes up to his day off with a pounding headache. He fumbles at the nightstand hopeful that his drunk ass managed to put together enough of a connection last night regarding what he might need this morning.

He finds what he's looking for – swallows the pills dry – and on second thought skulls the glass of water that was sitting there too.

He props himself up…. eventually… but only because he hears some noise from another room. (He _had _made the decision that he wouldn't be getting out of bed today – looks like that plan might've just incurred some enforced change).

He literally has to use his hands to swing his legs to the side of the bed. He sits there for an embarrassing amount of time before scrubbing a hand over his face and trying to put together two thoughts on what the noise might've been. (Hopes it's not something that will put his life or property at risk, but can't bring himself to care too much – he feels as good as dead anyway).

He looks up just in time to see Boo at the door – tongue out, tail wagging (and, is that… an incredulous look on the damn dog's face?)

Sam groans long and pathetic – thinks about the fact that he probably needs to tend to whatever his new best friend needs too.

The dog barks once and loud at Sam, then turns back and growls as they hear yet more noise coming from some place that is most definitely not… in this particular room.

Frankly, Sam feels well and truly duped by the situation at this point. He tells Boo this, threatening some hard-core guard-dog training (if he can ever haul his own brain back online).

Finally, finally, Sam gets to his feet - shuffles to pull his jeans and a shirt on, then follows Boo.

He's yawning like a canyon when they hear the noise again – this time with clarity… it's… it's definitely coming from the bathroom.

Sam thinks for a moment about getting his gun, but quashes the thought with some serious queries of his ability to use it right now. He takes the tactic of opening the door swift instead – as he pushes the dog in he simply hopes for the best.

"Beat it, hound," is what Boo cops – with the intensity of snark that Sam's only ever heard from one female voice.

"Peck?" Sam queries, popping his head through the door with all the faux cheer he can muster.

Peck throws her face in the general direction of the toilet bowl – then _heaves._

"Good to see you too," (Sam can't for the life of him bring a sympathetic sound to the fore).

He leaves the dog and Peck to sort it out for themselves, figures he'll make his way toward the kitchen to get her a glass of water before he takes his own sorry ass back on to bed.

As he walks past the spare room he notices that door ajar – hears a soft snore filtering out.

Sam prods the door all the way open with one single finger, eventually takes a stance –arms and legs crossed- in the middle of the frame.

"Christ, Nash. Haven't you got a kid you need to pick up…or work to go to?" Sam practically shouts.

Nash bolts upright – a tight as all get-out clutching of her hands to her head.

"Shove it, Swarek," she mumbles, hurling a pillow in his general direction "get me some coffee before I puke on your bed."

Sam feels a little better than he did before (either the pills he took - or light relief of watching other people's pain).

"Come on guuurrrrllll-fraaaan, if you do the bacon, I'll do the eggs," is what he gives back to her - an unabashed channelling of Shaw.

He's got her laughing at that – head in a pillow, sure – but she's definitely laughing. The "you're a bigger dork than Andy even says," comes out surprised and big when she finally gets her face up for air.

Sam's smiling too, pretty much the most genuine since he can't remember when. He pulls his face back to straight quick though as he considers other things Ollie might make of this situation.

(5 hours after yesterday's confrontation with Peck, the 3 of them had ended up back here… 4 Margarita pizzas… and a _whole lotta_ beer….

He can't quite remember _how_ that had happened – exactly - save the fact that Nash had warned Sam at some point that Gail really, really, shouldn't be left alone).

…

"Where's Gail?" Nash queries now – like all of a sudden she's piecing some things together herself.

"Blitzing the bathroom," then on his second thoughts "…um. I'll leave you to see where that's at?" Sam feels real cautious all of a sudden.

Nash is up and out of bed like the side-effects of the hangover they all share have been cured in the past thirty odd seconds "yeah, yeah… get that coffee moving….and maybe something to eat, okay?"

Sam's onto it then - quick smart like he's just taken orders from his very first TO.

….

Sam calls Boo, and preps the dog some breakfast while the coffee-maker starts up. He's got his face in the fridge inspecting the contents when Nash and Peck finally come out.

Gail looks like shit. She's …well…um…whiter than Sam's seen her before. Her eyes are red -despite the fact that it looks like they've been in there these past minutes washing hard at her face.

_(Sam felt pretty bad for her yesterday too. Nash had convinced them to take the talk to the park… where the 3 of them had stayed side-by-side watching Leo and the dog play for an hour or two._

_Nash had prepped Peck in her car apparently – reminded Gail of how this sucky situation was hard for Sam too._

_She didn't push Sam into telling her anything much. It came down to 4 questions – all of which were asked and answered with all parties staring out at the boy and the dog:_

_"Where is he?"_

_"Are they in it together?"_

_"How long will it be?"_

_"Will he be okay?"_

_Sam gives her the basics of the little he knows – he knows they're UC…together of sorts and sharing the same pad….(brother/sister crime unit that for the sake of anonymity tends to spend time in the same living quarters for a month at a time max). He knows the case is pretty big – major crime ring…that has a connection to someone that has somehow become recently connected with Anton Hill. _

_His mouth went dry when he told her carefully "they could be a while…months…but if all goes as planned, they'll be okay."_

_By the time the answers were done, Dex had showed up to take Leo for the night – as though it was some sort of cue. It was when Nash was saying her goodbyes to the kid at the car… that Peck finally turned to look at Sam - "are you going to wait for her?"_

_As 'normal' as the question was, Sam admits he felt pretty sucker-punched at that. He knows she didn't mean it... but it felt like a blow. He considered not answering it… but then he looked at her, actually…really, really looked at her._

_She appeared well and truly… done. _

_Sam glanced down at his feet before he chose to look her in the eyes again, stated as honest to God as he could "I… I think that's all there is for me to do."_

_By the time Nash got back to them, Peck was looking away again – holding back what Sam thought maybe - might be - tears - furiously shaking her head)._

…..

Peck's shaking her head in Sam's kitchen now too. He spies Nash rubbing a bit at her back, Traci prompting Sam about the eggs in his hand with a nod of her head "you gonna feed us, Swarek?"

Sam nods a couple of times, gets some heat and cracks the full dozen into the pan.

"Sorry," blurts Peck as Sam picks up a knife.

(Oh, yeah. That's right. Sam is having flashbacks now. Someplace between the kitchen -and Nash and Sam throwing Peck on a bed last night - she'd tried to kiss him… and then tried one on Nash too).

Things go a bit quiet between the three of them while Sam chops up some tomato and mushroom. Sam can't help but grin a bit as he throws 'em all in with the eggs. Feeling the eyes in the back of his head, he looks over to see matching arched eyebrows from Peck and Nash.

(It was angry – the kiss – and that's about all. Some sort of punishment she was dishing out to everyone that had anything to do with this mess).

"Don't apologise, Peck. We were drunk. You were pissed with Collins. Nash and I are awesome and hot."

Peck rolls her eyes and lets out a snort, but there's a half-smile in there somewhere – or grimace. One way or another it flashes a few degrees bigger when Nash mutters loudly "bet I'm the better kisser."

Peck pulls her face into order before she smirks again at Nash, "well, at least you kissed back".

This time it's Sam's turn to shake his head. He turns back to the omelette – vaguely recollects that there may have been some other drunken revelations from each of them last night.

…..

He serves the messy omelette up at the table and pours them all some coffee black. They eat quietly – making the occasional small talk about work.

Out of nowhere Peck pipes up "if you do send another message…tell her to tell him he's a jerk".

They finish breakfast in silence aside the scraping of forks - Nash occasionally looking up at either one or the other for longer than necessary.

…...

Nash and Peck finally make their way to the front door. Gail throws an unreadable look over her shoulder at Sam, "whatever you decide…do it for you".

Sam chews the inside of his cheek, gives it a second and decides not to respond.

After another beat Traci tells Sam she'll see him later, walks Gail out the door.

…

Sam scrubs hard at the dirty dishes with the dog at his side. After a thorough clean of the kitchen more generally, the two make their way back to the bedroom.

Deliberating on whether or not to have a shower, Sam finally decides he really can't be bothered – instead shucks his clothes …and flops face down.

He lay there on top of the covers, Boo at his side. He pats at the dogs nose carefully –

Thinks about Peck and Collins. Thinks about Jerry and Nash.

He turns then to thinking of Andy, and what all this really might mean.

He wonders what she's doing now.

He wonders if the message from her meant what he thought.

He wonders if he should send another message…in response to hers…or at all.

He wonders if it might be days, months…or longer … before he sees her again.

He wonders what her thoughts and feelings will be if she even ever does return.

He wonders if she will be the same…or different.

For the first time in 3 weeks, he wonders about the wait itself –

He wonders about how many days he might feel the heaviness of uncertainty … the uncertainty that he feels today….

An uncertainty that makes him feel a whole lot like he's been put on ice.


	4. O Father, Where Art Thou

AN: Hooooo boy. This one was…. a little 'hard' to write. (Never fear: next chapter should be a less angsty!)

AN2: In case you need a re-cap on the timeframe here, we're at about a month now since Andy left.

Warning: A little use of the F-bomb ahead. Kind of felt necessary to emphasise a couple of the thoughts in Sam's head.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

Sam's head feels well and truly screwed when he wakes the next morning.

(Probably in part due to the nightmares of explosive devices going off in Andy's hand -

Another thing: Up until yesterday, he was pretty sure he'd worked through those 7 fucking stages of grief - that McNally had once touted about - in less than 3 weeks flat).

The problem, he realises now – is that a big part of his 'acceptance and hope' was intrinsically dependant on _her_…and on his assumption that he could make _them_ work when she got back.

Sure, sure, he was making headway in other parts of his life. Well. Okay, he's making a concerted effort when it comes to colleagues and work. But. Whenever he had actually stopped to think about the future per se… it was totally and entirely absorbed in his desire for her.

He has no goddamn idea if that message from McNally means anything – let alone, 'let's give it another shot'.

Jesus Christ. What if she doesn't even come back? (His head is spinning with the possibilities. He _knows_ what can go on when you go under. There were a couple of times when _he_ – for one reason or another - was never coming back).

Sam starts to feel his chest constrict as Boo licks at his toes.

He scrubs at his face and slowly sits up to look at the clock -

Well, Sam sighs. At least he gets to distract himself with work today.

He means to take the dog for a walk this morning but every bone in his body comes to a grinding halt again in the bathroom when he drops his toothbrush down the side of the vanity – in reaching for it, he finds a hair comb of Andy's tucked down there too.

…..

By the time he gets to work he's on edge. His mind is jumping all over the place…not just about Andy…about everything.

(Mainly about Andy).

Sam sits in parade trying abysmally to focus on Frank. Sometime after 'serve and protect', Shaw's there, snapping his fingers in front of his face before he finally comes to.

"You hearing me Sammy? Maddie wants you to do those balloon animals at her party again this year".

Sam looks at Ollie sideways, tries to get his head back in ….any sort of...game.

Sam nods at Ollie, tries to manage a smile in the affirmative. An image of last years party conjures up in his mind - his stomach swoops at the thought of the Shaw girls getting older.

_(Thinks generally of time marching on)._

…..

Sam's assigned to traffic with Diaz. He hands the keys to Chris, relieved to be a passenger for once – it'll buy him some time to think things out.

(He's at the point of demanding Jones get him a meet with McNally – just wants to sit Andy down and get her to tell him when she'll be back… and what they'll be doing _together_ for the next 60 years.

_Jesus._ He really does love this woman more than he can wrap his head around).

"Everything okay, Sir?" Sam notices the way Diaz puts a soft emphasis on _Sir_. (Diaz has taken to calling Sam different things at different times – it's 'Swarek' when they shoot some hoops, 'Sam' at The Penny, but always 'Sir' at work. Sam feels like giving the guy a pat on the back – what with his sound capacity to compartmentalize).

"How's that kid of yours?" Sam deflects.

Diaz smiles, looks over at Sam. "He's a champ".

Sam almost asks Diaz if he likes being a dad –

He bites his tongue instead, doesn't want things to segue way into anything about _that_ particular conversational theme.

…

By the time they get back to the Barn at the end of the day, Sam is well and truly beat. They've done stuff-all in the physical sense – a matter that has only served to give Sam an even bigger headache.

He thinks of slipping out quietly. He doesn't have any coursework tonight, and can't be bothered putting on a face for the Penny public – especially with this current ambiguous mood that he's in.

He spots Nash with Leo and the kid's father at the front desk on his way out, decides to get over himself and at least say a politely quick hello.

(Nash and the kid's father are arguing quietly about something. Well, Nash is trying not to argue, but is definitely shooting some death stares at the guy when Leo's not looking).

"Sorry to interrupt," Sam doesn't feel that sorry at all. "Hey Leo, how you doing buddy? I'm taking off now. I got some homework to do".

Leo screws up his nose at Sam. "Me too, Uncle Sammy. It sucks, doesn't it?"

"Leo," Traci gives the kid some eyebrow or two.

She turns her attention to Sam, eyes him carefully – "you look like you could do with a decent nights sleep".

Sam nods in the affirmative, but looks away and starts walking toward the exit. "Yeah, yeah… I'll…um… catch you guys later".

Leo calls out after him "Seeya later, Uncle Sammy. Say hi from me to Boo!"

Sam holds his hand up to wave but doesn't turn back to them until he's at the door. He takes a last glance at Leo and his Dad as they walk hand-in-hand in that direction too.

…

"Sammy!" He's almost at his truck when he hears the familiar voice and turns on his heel. Sam can't help but smile - despite the weariness he feels.

He trudges over to the boss' car. "Division 15. Toronto's safest crèche," Sam faux-glares at Noelle. He sticks his head in the window to give her a kiss on the cheek, takes a peep over to the back while he's at it. The little bundle of pink is wrapped and secured tightly in her car seat – the most asleep Sam has seen…anyone…ever.

(Not including McNally the mornings he left her at 5).

Sam struggles to keep his grin under wraps – feels Noelle pinch at his cheek. "How you doin', Sammy?"

Sam pulls away, gets himself back into the cool evening air. "Fine. Great, even. How's motherhood?"

"Since last week?" Noelle smirks, appraising him.

"Smart ass." Sam shakes his head.

They both let some silence hang between them, Noelle breaks first. "I know you've got a busy schedule, but…I'd really love some adult company every now and then."

"Frank and Nash not doin' it for you?"

(He knows Nash spends a bit of time there too. She's forever clucking on to Sam about Ninja and the many things that prompt the baby to smile).

"Remember that time at the Academy, Swarek? The pinky-promise that we'd always have one another's back?"

(Sam does remember. Remembers well. He and Noelle had clicked instantly – even before the brotherhood was formed. They'd spent a whole day and night getting drunk after Noelle had broken up with some dead-beat jerk).

She yanks at the edge of his jacket now, stares him down. "I got your back, Sammy. Any girl breaks your heart. I'll break them".

(She means it too. But she also meant the ice-cold stare she levelled at him the day she found out that he'd broken it off with McNally in the first place. She'd rolled her eyes after about a minute and snorted: "When are you ever gonna give yourself a damned break, you damn fool").

He looks up at the sky now and exhales, hears Frank approach.

He watches as Frank opens the back door and plants a gentle, quiet kiss on Ninja's head, before he moves to get in the car himself.

Sam chews at the inside of his lip and stares at the little family for a second – burns the image into his brain.

Sam smiles at them all, asks them in his softest voice "I… I think I owe you guys at least one dinner. My place, tomorrow night?"

Noelle's head turns rapid-fire to him. "Never thought you'd ask. A Sam Swarek hot special sounds great."

He watches them drive off, wonders if he should invite Nash and Leo too.

…

By the time he gets home, the dog is chomping at the bit.

He tells Boo dinner might have to wait tonight …. in lieu of a really long walk.

…..

The walk turns into a jog for both of them after about a half hour – stopping only once for a quick pick-up at a convenience store.

By the time they've got to where they were headed it's dark…and Sam wonders whether they should've called first – or at least driven here.

He buzzes a couple of times before he hears the gruff response he was after.

The dog and Sam are still breathing hard when the door finally opens.

Tommy has a look on his face that shows no surprise at all. Sam hands Tommy the bag of Apple flips that he got from the store.

Tommy looks down at the dog, then back at Sam: "I guess you guys better come in".

Sam half expects Tommy to have company, so he finds himself subtly checking the rooms.

"Can I get either of you a water? Or Coffee or Tea?" Tommy's shuffling about in the kitchen making motions to prepare things anyway. He puts a water dish down for the dog, gets out some cups and raises his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam is feeling nervous all of a sudden – almost goes to reach for his imaginary boutonniere.

"Coffee. Black. Please". (Sam never felt like he was 16 when he was 16, so he doesn't know if that's actually what he's feeling like now…but it's a definite possibility).

Tommy serves the coffee – gestures to the kitchen table, and proceeds to sit in the seat closest to Sam.

"I … How have you been? And, um…Amy?" Sam sits on the edge of his chair.

Tommy takes a sip of his coffee, clears his throat. "Fine…we're fine. And you?"

"Fine," Sam says definitively – nodding his head.

Tommy nods back, looking into his coffee cup.

"I … hurt her". Sam has no idea how any of this will unfold – he just knows with what they've all been through, he owes it to Andy…and Tommy….to….(heck, Sam doesn't even know. Reach out?)

"And then…I - I told her I loved her. Before. Before she went away".

Tommy's head stays down, but his eyes come up to meet with Sam's. He nods imperceptibly. "I know you love her, Sam. That's why… while she's doing this _thing_…whatever the hell it is… that's why you know … you gotta stay away".

(And there it is. Sam figured Tommy's response could go one of two ways. All the way here, Sam kinda hoped Tommy would tell him to go make sure that his little girl was safe. Now that this is out in the open, Sam realises that Tommy knows just how good a cop Andy is too).

….

Sam stays with Tommy, talking….and listening…. for more than an hour. They keep it pretty light – most of the time - recaps of the adventures of Andy across a whole lot of years.

It's on a refill of coffee that Tommy addresses another elephant in the room:

"When I let Andy's mother go…. I thought she'd come back. Turned out Andy wasn't enough collateral even for that". Every ounce of Tommy stills for a while.

Sam stills too, holding on tight to his cup.

Tommy scratches at his head a bit and breathes out. "Andy's not Claire, Sammy. I can tell you a thousand more things about her that prove… she is…most definitely not. She still loves me, for one".

The men lock eyes for a long minute.

Tommy's mouth hints at a smile as he looks over at the dog. "Pretty sure she still loves you too".

They finish their coffees in silence listening to the sighs that are exhaled by Boo.

….

Tommy drives Sam and the dog home, for some reason taking the long way around.

As Sam reaches for the door handle, Tommy clears his throat:

"And, Sammy…. _you're_ not your father".

Sam's hand feels like it's glued to the fucking handle, it won't budge an inch. A deer in the headlights – or, or like a crim - caught right smack bang in the act.

He opens his mouth to say something…anything…. but feels like he might be going to be sick.

Sam closes his mouth again, lets himself focus on regaining some breath. After a while he finds enough voice to call for Boo.

"Come have dinner with Amy and I sometime, Sam?" Tommy's voice has the same gentleness to it now that it has when Sam's heard him talking to Andy.

Sam clutches Boo's leash, takes a step away from the car.

He nods a couple of times at Tommy. "Night, Tommy. See you again soon".

He waits until Tommy drives off then sprints up the stairs. Juggling Boo's leash in one hand and key's in the other, he finally manages to get the door open. He turns some lights on and feeds the dog in a blur.

He gets himself in the shower and turns it to as hot as he can bear - _feels_ how red he is when he gets out, then….. finally takes a look in the mirror.

He stands there for a while. Hands grasping either side of the vanity - he just stares.

He picks up Andy's comb finally, and runs his thumb along the teeth so they almost hurt.

He deliberates putting the comb in a drawer – decides eventually he wants to leave it out.

_(Wants to be reminded every day of the promises he made to her)._

When he gets to the bedroom, Boo's already at the foot of the bed. Sam opens the cupboard quietly – like he's worried the damn dog might see what he's up to.

He reaches up to the box at the back. It's behind some blankets that haven't been used for years. He nearly tips the contents on his head trying to get the thing out.

Sam pops the lid carefully, and sits on the bed. He reaches to the bottom of the pile and pulls out the photo he needed to check. He inspects it closely – sees them all lined up. His father is at one end of the line with his hand on Sarah's shoulder. She's tiny. Sam's tinier – and resting on his mother's right hip. He looks again at his father - and notes - again - the resemblance in looks. He then turns his attention to his mother - tries desperately not to see the sadness that he can't help but see in her eyes.

He doesn't know who took this photo, can't even remember who gave it to him.

He holds it now, right up to his face.

Sam feels a sense of frustration, desperately wanting to remember anything about that day.

He closes his eyes, wanting smiles that are genuine to flood through his mind.

As he puts the photo back in its place, it's Andy's smile that burns bright in his head.


	5. On Being Grilled

AN: Time hasn't jumped much at all this chapter. It's the following day from the chapter before. A Swarek 'dinner party' was just too good to pass up ;)

AN2: Thanks so much to everyone reading, reviewing, etc. etc. Your thoughts really bring a smile to my face. To the guest who was concerned that I made Andy out to be some kind of saint, um. sorry? I certainly think neither Sam or Andy are that. I do think Sam loves her a lot though, and I do my best to explore what _mightmaybepossibly_ be in his head. They are just my thoughts though, and I'm always happy to read all of yours too.

AN3: For those of you wondering whether McNally will ever make an appearance in this story...well, yes...that is the plan (eventually). Not my fault she chose time and space, though... so, you know...patience!

AN4: This one is for enits3, magicmum & kmart92 as a special thanks for their especially lovely encouragement in various ways.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam has no earthly idea how this happened.

Well, that might be an overstatement.

He knows how it came about… he just doesn't know how he _let_ it happen…to the extent that it is now….happening.

...

(This morning at the coffee station Sam had mentioned to Nash that he was cooking for Frank and Noelle. He asked her…. quietly…. whether she and Leo would like to come along. He figured two extra mouths to feed wouldn't be a big deal. It's not like the pair of them looked like they ate a lot anyway.

No harm. No foul.

_Unless_ the biggest sets of ears and mouths in Division 15 are anywhere in the vicinity of any dinner party invitation being dished out -

The Shepstein partnership? It's truly one to behold.

"You, uh..you putting on a do, buddy?" Ollie smirked, prodding his hand in the direction of the sugar sticks.

"What th….?" Sam and Nash had both turned on their heels in surprise – no doubt wondering how they hadn't heard these two on approach. They're both about as stealth as a herd of elephants.

Epstein jumped in with some fist bumps: "Par-taaaay at Swarek's. Woot, woot!" Sam looked on – a mixture of confusion and amusement - as Dov made the announcement to the whole damn room.

Sam was about to retaliate with a smartass pun – bring the kid down a peg or two – but as he turned further, he noticed Diaz and Peck leaning over the counter watching … and on a double take at Epstein, saw what looked like it may be… awe (for God's sake)… in the kids eyes.

Sam let out a loud breath, rolled his own eyes at the lot of them.

"You got a grill?" Nash queried, shoulders up around her ears and... Sam could've sworn...a mischievous glint in her eye).

…

He stands here now on his back porch - a plate of meat in one hand, tongs in the other – looking out over the rowdy backyard.

Ollie has the spotlight with the rookies, all hands in the air: over-emphasised gestures and exasperated calls of "when I was a boy…"

Frank and Noelle are talking to Zoe – the three of them cluck-clucking at Ninja with the Shaw's youngest near Zoe's hip, tickling at the baby's feet.

The other kids are up the back - taking turns at attempting to teach Boo new tricks (obviously impressed by the fact that he already came with a few).

A flash goes off in his eyes then another in the direction of the crowd, bringing Sam out of his daze. He turns to see a smiling Nash who points to the display quick and gone. "Evidence," is all she supplies before walking back into the house.

"Yo. Sammy. Need some help there, brother? Rather not eat mine charcoal or rare". Sam's pretty sure Ollie's had a bit too much to drink – what with the way Zoe shoots him a glare.

And – because Sam likes it when Ollie's having fun: "You know it brother – get your ugly steak-cooking backside over here". Zoe gives Sam a look for his troubles too.

"Let there be some juicy rump!" hollers Ollie now, making his way across to the bbq with a beer bottle hoisted Olympic torch style up in the air –his rookie posse joining the parade.

Sam grins innocently at Zoe, shrugs_ what do you do?_

(She's had one issue or another with Sam since he had a fling with her sister 15 odd years ago. Still, Sam's happy the Shaw's are back together. Well, he's happy Ollie's happy: Shaw is a _good_ family man).

Turns out Ollie and the rookies aren't much chop at the bbq – they merely stand around watching him… the boys recounting loudly every bloody car chase in the life and times of Division 15.

Peck crosses her arms and turns away from the conversation at one point – she's barely said a word since she arrived. "Nash is in on the salad. She could probably do with some help," Sam says to her now…thinking offering up time away from all the testosterone might be overdue.

She stares at Sam coolly, appraising. "Swarek. Do I look like a lettuce girl to you?"

Sam laughs – half under his breath, turns back to the meat. He keeps his eyes off her as he asks "everything okay?"

Peck opens her mouth to respond but is cut short by Nash's entry with some greens. "Let's get this mob fed before this place turns into a zoo". Sam's eyes flicker to Nash who has been in mother mode all afternoon.

(She insisted on doing the salad, even organised the Shaw's to bring desert. Turns out she's a natural at traffic control too: she's got the kids lined up for sausages and is tut-tutting Oliver's hand away - all the while managing to serve up her own plate).

…..

Some hour or so later when Nash and Noelle cut up the 4 kinds of cheesecake that comprise Ollie's favourite desert, Zoe can't help herself:

"So, um. Sam. You let another one slip away?"

The table goes absolutely fucking still and quiet, aside the clatter of the metal spoon that Ollie just dropped.

Sam is a little shell-shocked for starters, chews a bit harder on the crust of his bread roll. He wants to keep this whole affair friendly and light. Wants for Ollie not to have to play piggy-in-the-middle, but –

"Zo. Honey. That cask wine already gone to your head?" The question comes from Ollie's mouth - Sam near damn chokes on his bread.

Sam does a quick sweep of the table, gauging for shockwaves, or…. something.

Diaz and Epstein fare the worst: mouths all the way open and eyes bulging out of their heads. Peck and Nash aren't far behind – although they both look set to burst into laughter at the slightest touch of the next trigger. Frank is looking at Ollie, _oh no, bro_… and Noelle is shooting daggers at Zoe even as she tucks Ninja in tight.

Sam then looks over into the yard where the kids and the dog have set up a picnic - peaceful and oblivious to all this grown up crap. He breathes quietly out - flicks his eyes back to Ollie and Zoe who are having a heated stare off of their own.

Sam chooses his next words fairly carefully, says them with an open mouth smile: "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Shaw's: always there to keep me in line – on both sides of the track". Puts up his beer bottle to _cheers._

Nash and Peck lose it after that, both in fits of giggles that they desperately try to rein in. The rest of the table breathes a sigh of relief.

Zoe and Ollie both look at Sam: Ollie with his crooked grin, Zoe rolls her eyes. Sam winks at the both of them.

"Please tell me you got cream to go with this cheesecake?" Ollie says, picking up his spoon.

…

It's another two hours or so before everyone decides to make tracks. All in all, Sam's surprised at how at ease he's felt tonight. He's actually had a bit of …fun? But it's dark and late, and now he just wants to curl up in bed.

He tells Nash to leave it as she bustles about the kitchen making a heavy dent in the cleaning up. She just shakes her head and throws a teatowel at him. "You are NOT waking up to this mess".

Peck is sitting up on the bench swinging her legs until Nash tells her "you'll be walking home unless you help".

Peck jumps to attention, pops some gum and throws Nash a two-fingered salute.

….

The three of them get it done quickly before he pushes them toward the door – helps Nash carry a sleeping Leo to the car.

Gail buckles up in the passenger seat. Puts her feet on the dash, then looks up at Sam. "You did good tonight, Swarek".

Sam raises his eyebrows at her. "Gee. Thanks Peck. I'll be sure to put the reference on my CV".

Traci pops out of the backseat from securing Leo and stands to give Sam a hug, gives him a rub on the back to boot. "I had a good time," she says quietly with a lopsided smile.

Sam blinks a couple of times – sees Jerry's face flash before his eyes. He gives a small smile back to her, nods and murmurs quietly: "to the good times".


	6. Keeping Mum About It

Advance apologies! This chapter is pretty damn messy. I just had to get it up…in order to move on. It was a tough but important one to write for me, I really wanted Sam to have a chance to say a few things at this particular turn. (We're now at 3 months since Andy went away).

Also; re Child Protection law; I only know it from an Australian POV – the use of any term that relates to it in this story is only for the purpose of the drama itself, it is not based on research or fact.

**Other Disclaimers: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

The past two months have gone at lightning speed for Sam –

It's a good thing.

He thinks.

For sure, there have still been days that he has wallowed.

Yesterday for example, being just one of those:

…..

(He'd gone to The Penny for a beer with Ollie, a quiet one to celebrate just making the D's. Turns out the whole place had been turned into 'Congratulations Central'. The whole of Division 15 there with fucking balloons and streamers and poppers and…. party hats… and, and… cake… for God's sake.

'"Welcome to the Dark Side" Nash said – her and Gail bringing it out to some truly cheesy fanfare. Took the two of them to carry it; white chocolate mud in the shape of a giant badge – NICE ONE, SWAREK spelled out with about 5000 m&m's on the top.

That's what set him off, actually. The fucking cake and m images of Andy throwing them in her mouth, feet on the dash…images of her burning cupcakes…images of the housewarming - all flashing through his brain.

Yeah – that fucking housewarming, Sam thought to himself; the first time he _should_ have told her 'I love you'.

"We were gonna pop out of one for you, but you know. I don't even like you much..so," Gail had shrugged her shoulders at him all high and cheshire grin quick and gone; _know what I mean?_

It's not that he wasn't chuffed, or anything. Well. They all know he's not into being the centre of attention – but he _did_ appreciate the effort and thought. It's just –

Yeah. He'd just _prefer_ things related to him be on the down low.

He'd rolled his eyes at Nash "you _shouldn't _have."

"Yeah. We totally should. You deserve some recognition besides the shine on the badge. You've been working your ass off in every direction… and. God. Swarek. Yeah. We just _should_." She's become a real champion of sorts for him, Nash has. Well, no. It's more like they look out for one another. But he knows now why she's Andy's best friend; he knows what makes her a best friend.

He'd rolled his eyes again and shook his head at her. Still; he ordered a bottle of the best bubbles from the bar – just for her and Gail.

The celebration wasn't that gaudy, mainly just some handshakes and the odd cheeky speech thanks to Frank, Ollie, and Noelle.

Sam had pulled himself together to say a few thanks; mentioned Traci and her coaching, Ollie and Noelle for the kicks up the ass, and everyone else for their general support.

He'd looked around the room at some stage though, felt a sharp pang in his heart at the fact that neither Jerry nor Andy were there.

He had a few 'celebratory' drinks by himself when he got home. His punch-drunk state giving him the courage to pull out the watch from Jerry - and a few private photographs).

…..

Still -

Along the way, things _have_ got easier. Of course he misses Andy and wishes she was here - to let him….prove….what he wants to prove…

It's just _different_.

He finally figured out - at some point - that giving himself a break meant _not _thinking about what might happen when Andy gets back.

It's meant forgiving himself for a lot of things too. He knows he can't wind back the clock; even if he could he figures the probability is high that it just wouldn't be enough.

If he's really honest with himself, the space away from her has probably helped with some things too.

It _has_ helped clear his mind. Despite the odd time of confusion and hurt and anger, he has figured out that he is who he is – and that any changes he decides to make in himself are not _only _for her.

(The mind clearing moments are in part related to Boo. The dog is loyal and patient and always happy to be right by Sam's side.

The increasing clarity can also be attributed to an old motorbike he bought off a buddy not so long ago; he hasn't ridden one for years – just wanted the challenge to get something from the past fixed and _working_…. Then …then…he might take a ride.

Sam's been in his garage every day after he takes the dog for a walk. Boo at his side and some music in the background, he feels a familiar rush as he tinkers away. Sometimes they're only in there a few minutes, other days it's hours on end. It depends really; on his mood…or what else is going on.

He hasn't told anyone else about the bike yet – just wants to keep it for himself for now, and see what he can do).

…

He's in the D's office now with Nash going over some cold-case files that have been re-opened when they hear some commotion out front. Sam wouldn't say it's an unusual occurrence – but one of the raised voices he can hear is sort of … familiar.

Sam's hand steadies on the file he has open – photographs of a dead teenage girl from over six years ago. He's not really looking at the images - they've been staring at this stuff already for the best part of the day.

He's in two minds as to whether he should make up some excuse to Nash to get himself out the front, but she's totally on to him. She's eyeing him carefully, probably weighing up what he's going to do …and if she should be in on it too.

They're standing in their face-off when they hear Peck's voice up next. Actually, she straight out whistles first. "The kid doesn't want to talk to ANY of you". He can picture Gail now, hands on her holster and that cold as ice stare.

Sam flips the file closed, and hitches a thumb over his shoulder. "Should see if she can keep control of all that".

Nash snorts at him, but then nods her head. "WE should, shouldn't WE?" A slow grin blooms on her face. She gets her body in front of Sam, making sure she's out the door first – turns back to Sam practically baring her teeth. "You might need the protection, dude". Sam raises his eyebrows at her but otherwise keeps a stony face.

By the time they get out there, most of Division 15 is too. It seems like pretty much everyone needed to use the photocopier and fax machines at the same time - both a stone's throw away from the unfolding scene.

"Looky, looky, looky! Larry and Moe have come along for the ride". Ollie has taken to shit-stirring Sam about his… ah…friendship… with Nash and Peck.

Sam pats Ollie on the back – enough to make him cough up the piece of donut that's in his mouth. Nash picks up the coffee Shaw was drinking – sips at it before she goes to the coffee station to add some cream.

(Sam thought it might have been jealousy to start off with, but all-in-all, it seems Shaw just wants 'in' - the great divide between the rookie and TO tables at The Penny being inched away at every week).

Sam edges his way toward Peck, checking her posture to see if she actually does have this potential melee under control.

It's not a normal thing that the good officers of this place do – the rubbernecking – it's just that Gail is still on "good behaviour", and one false move could trip the wire: Boom – the complete obliteration of a Peck policing career.

As he looks from her to the scene, Sam is reminded of an episode of Jerry Springer that Andy once made him watch.

(She likes all types of shit on the tube McNally does – especially if it gives her a chance to pitch her knowledge of psych. Her running commentary through Criminal Minds used to make him want to smoke).

It doesn't take an Aaron Hotchner to figure out what's going on here though:

Generations and branches of a single family, squabbling, fighting - and hurling some damn nasty insults. At the middle of it all is a boy – Sam puts him around Leo's age. He's wearing a tracksuit about two sizes too big for him, and some runners that look like hand-me-downs too. The kid's not looking at anyone in particular - the louder the shouting gets, he plants his eyes to the floor.

Standing next to the kid is the woman whose voice Sam recognised. He didn't pick her as one that would holler, but it seems like this situation could be getting to her.

Every now and then, Claire McNally raises her hand like she wants to swear some kind of oath. She's trying to perform the dual task of reasoning with the masses, and keeping the kid distress free. She doesn't seem to be particularly effective at either.

Sam looks to Gail to see what she might be going to do – he doesn't want to undermine her, but things are starting to heat up between two of the men in the group. "Any place you need us to be Peck?"

It's like a prompt for Gail; she finally steps up to the plate.

"Okay, okay. You'll all get a say - on ONE condition". That get's their attention – her voice is loud and firm, no messing about. "That right now you all shut up". There's a pause in the air, long enough for Peck to gather her thoughts obviously – soon enough, she starts barking directions.

Delegating duties to Sam, Nash, Ollie, Diaz, and Epstein, she splits the group into pairs – each filing off into the available interview rooms, while still others are seated to wait.

Peck stops Sam as he goes to head into where Claire and the boy are. "Take that guy in there". Gail stands between Sam and the door. She's pointing Sam toward interview 2, 100% no room for debate.

It turns out to be the young boy's dad that Sam interviews. It's a custody dispute gone bad; not really a case for a detective, but they're all on it – Peck needing the help. There have been accusations of kidnapping and other ugly things, but all in all most of the 'evidence' points to nothing the police can really do.

Within the hour they've figured the kid has to go back with the mother; a child protection order will still be in play.

As it happens, Claire, the boy and the mother, come out of the interview room right on cue. Sam's just managed to get the father settled; a brother and sister-in-law taking him home.

Claire spots Sam as she bids the boy and his mother goodbye; tells them that she will check in with them tomorrow, emphasises the mother call her immediately if it's more urgent than that.

Sam tips his chin at her, a cautious _hello._

Claire nods at Sam, a tight smile that settles firm on her face. "Sam. Hello." She walks over to him, fiddling with the zip on her handbag as she lands in his actual vicinity.

Sam isn't sure how to work things here, but decides to have a go. "How are things, Claire? Have they…uh…have you been kept in the loop."

(He's aware of the simple no nonsense messages that used to get passed on to Sarah while he was away…just the barest of information every so often to let her know he was safe. He also knows how hard it can be… how tense those messages made Sarah).

"I know she's safe." Claire says fairly coolly, the smile still in place. Sam didn't think to clarify that he wasn't talking about today's case; guessed right that she'd just know what he was referring to.

Sam nods. "Good," then as he lets out a breath "that's good."

"She's done the right thing," Claire says now, curtly. Then, looking directly at Sam: "You really hurt her, Sam. And. Well, sometimes these things turn out for the best."

Sam's mouth and eyes open wide, he seriously has to plant his tongue in his cheek. He throws his head back a bit and gets his hands on his hips. He counts to about 16 before he finally decides to speak.

"I hurt her. Yep, sure did. I was out of my mind for at least a good few weeks," he breathes in and out slowly, gets bumped by Peck walking past.

He gets his voice to low and calm before continuing, there's no way he wants to give Claire McNally any goddamn grace. Still – he already knows he's better than her. "But I stayed. And I'm staying. She's never lost me; she just…she never will". Sam's never felt so emphatic, despite his annoyance and anger right now, he's practically feeling elated – or hysterical – one of the two.

Claire swallows hard, and turns her face to stone.

"I love her, Claire," Sam says quietly without a trace of upset; just pure resolute. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Her face softens then, just the tiniest bit. She looks down to the ground and then back up to him. "Make sure she hears that in the future, Sam". She shuffles about a bit more, "if you mean it, you'll tell her every day".

Sam's breathing pretty heavy, keeps his hands on his hips and his stance open and square.

"See you later, Sam." Claire starts to walk away, a few steps later she turns back to him. "Sometimes it's not enough, you know? Love. Still: You're part way there if you can _both _make it beginning, middle, and end".

Sam swallows in some air, watches until she walks right out the door.

"Everything okay?" Nash is behind him, her voice pitched on up.

Sam whets his lips with his tongue, clears his throat.

He turns to Nash and inspects her closely. Thinks of her and Leo and how she really, really has a lot of things written all over her face every time she looks at the kid - or merely says or hears his name.

He grins at her and puts a hand firm to her right shoulder, shaking her a bit; looks her straight in the eye "Have I ever told you what a great mum I think you are, Nash?" Sam relaxes a bit and smiles genuine at her. "Have I?"

"No," Nash laughs at him; that straight, easy laugh. She gives him a light rap to his stomach with the back of her knuckles. "But I have no doubt Leo won't mind if you shout me a drink at The Penny now to celebrate _that_ particular fact."

Sam laughs back at her, keeps his hand on her shoulder as they walk toward the door. He motions to Peck and Ollie on the way out, hitches a thumb at Epstein and Diaz too:

"Let's go. Let's celebrate some Nash".


	7. Sister Act

A/Ns: Thanks to everyone who has spent some time to drop some reviews! Apologies that I still haven't thanked you personally... I'm running around in circles at the moment, but I really want you to know that your thoughts mean SO much.

In terms of timeline here, we've jumped another few weeks since the last chapter. (Edging at 4 months since Andy went away).

Also...For the guest who queried about the word 'chuffed' in the last chapter… it's just a bit of urban slang for pleased/proud/happy with oneself…

**Thanks & Disclaimers: **

A huge, huge thanks to the very awesome **balladofbliss** who gave permission for me to use some of her work. Her amazing story '_Meet You On The Other Side_' had me so convinced in terms of this part of Sam's backstory that I was compelled to 'adopt' his family as it was shared there. (It also gels well with some things I think about Sam's father, and the little tidbits that have been alluded to in the show). Anyway...whilst I may deviate in some respects, all credit must go to **balladofbliss** for inspiring one huge piece of my puzzle - so, yeah!

And, finally of course... I do not own Rookie Blue!

* * *

"You got any family?" Nash asks, her voice real calm and low.

They've been working the case they're on for the past month - double-homicide of a mother and daughter from a large family. At this point the father is prime suspect – all other possible leads now officially gone bone dry-

(At least Sam and Nash are working it together, so they've managed to keep an even keel; most days it's only one of them that gets angry, frustrated, or upset).

Sam feels his stomach swoop.

(The only 'private/personal' conversations they've gotten into this past few months have revolved around stories of Jerry before he met Nash; and the tales of McNally - before she met Sam. All told, they've kept things generally and on the lighter side. The heaviest it ever got was when he told her what went down the day Andy left – even then it was the basics…from his point of view).

"I'm not an alien, Nash," Sam decides to angle for humour again now. It's not that he doesn't like her or trust her – God; he's beginning to think he actually does a whole lot. Still - he keeps his head in what he's reading.

Her eyes raise above the file she has in her own hands; she keeps a watch on him for a few seconds before looking away. "Really? 'Cause the way you chowed down that lasagne, you coulda fooled me."

Sam swallows a bit, keeps a straight face.

(She'd invited Sam and Boo over for dinner last night – on the excuse that Leo hadn't seen the dog for weeks. It probably should've felt a bit odd what with Nash's mother there too; an outsider might've thought it was some sort of family meal.

It wasn't though – odd that is. Wasn't odd at all. It was easy and comfortable; Nash has the same sense of humour as her mother, and Mrs Nash as it turns out...is an awesome cook).

"Lasagne's a favourite," Sam explains now, lips curling slightly. "Besides, your mum egged me on".

Nash quirks an eyebrow but doesn't raise her eyes. Her mouth has opened though, like she's about to make a grand statement; she lets out an amused '_ha!'_ instead.

Sam chews inside his cheek, suddenly wonders what she might already know...what Andy... or, more significantly, what Jerry might have said.

He just finds this stuff a bit hard, okay. It's far too complex and awkward for even him to wrap his head around. It's like...it's like opening a can of damn worms. He doesn't talk about his family much now because that's _all_ he was ever _made_ do as a kid; his story told a thousand times over to a thousand different strangers. Most of them with responses that started off with pitying stares –

You answer one fucking question...and who knows what's up next.

But, and only because Nash is careful and smart –

"Got some family in St Catherines. My mother. Sister and her family. Motley lot." Sam keeps an ear on his tone; stays looking at his files. He pops a piece of gum in his mouth and offers Nash one too.

Nash takes the gum from him, eventually looking up. She gives him one of her bigger smiles, even shows some teeth. "Aw, you're an Uncle Sammy by blood?" She _is_ careful in the way she says it - steady, warm, and soft.

Sam wonders if she used to use that tone to rock Leo to sleep. He looks up at her and finally smiles at her real small. "Niece, and a nephew," and before she can ask: "Don't see 'em enough". He figures the mention of the newer family members should keep the conversation related to right now - as in ...the present-day.

"I got a few of those. They live away too." Nash is still using a 'keep-him-off-the-ledge' voice; Sam feels pretty safe.

He looks at her as he closes his file and shrugs. "Might visit mine again some time soon".

Nash locks her eyes on his, chews her gum a bit. She's got an elbow on the table – rests her chin on her hand. "Andy ever meet 'em?"

He knows for sure that McNally would've told her if that were the case. He knows it's a rhetorical question, he just –

Sam shakes his head. He's kind of interested in what advice Nash might dish out here anyway; chews his gum and blinks a couple of times.

"Some day. Huh?" Nash is sitting incredibly still, not a wiggle in sight. Still, she looks relaxed and comfortable. It actually comes out as neither advice nor suggestion – just real and genuine and like she thinks it could work. She's smirking though – possibly conjuring up images of what Sam's family might look like. Of what _Andy_ might look like on their territory_... with_ them.

It's possible Sam's building up a similar picture; he realizes quickly he's starting to grin like a fool.

"That's the plan," is all he says.

Nash stands up suddenly, conversation over. "I think we need some action, partner." She picks up both the files they've been looking at; takes them to the cabinet and locks them away. "Ready to do some talking to this family with blood on its hands?"

Sam stands up; gets his jacket on and motions to the door. "With you, Nash. All the way".

* * *

That weekend he packs the dog and some things in the truck.

(He'd decided the afternoon following his conversation with Nash that it _was_ time for a visit to St Catherines. Rang and told Sarah that night; made a commitment to it before he could back out.

"Thank God, Sam. Yes. And...just...bring _whatever_ you need... and, ah...make sure you pack your tools?" All in all she sounded real excited to be seeing him. He is, kind of, too... it's been fucking months.

He rolled his eyes at the _whatever_ and tools comment; wondered what home renovation Rob was on now. Still – the more time he spends _doing_, the less there is for needing to duck and weave Sarah's endless stream of questions, so...)

The drive to St Catherines is relatively easy - and definitely quiet. They stop once for fuel, then to find Boo a dog-friendly park.

(Sam didn't mind the dose of fresh air either; neither the music, nor the dog's company could prevent his mind from wandering into flashbacks... unbidden images of other family times started arriving halfway into the trip).

By the time he pulls into the driveway he has to make a deliberate attempt to re-focus on the here and now. He sits in the truck for a good couple of minutes with his head half out the window - eyes closed and taking in some slow breaths.

He hears Boo whimper, and then a whole lot of human noise.

Sam looks up to see the rushing bodies down the driveway - all of them speaking at once.

"Geez. What are you waiting for, little brother?" comes from Sarah, laughing.

"Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam! Is that Boo?" Mason shouts over the top of his mother, running and tossing a soccer ball at the same time, followed by his own team of other four legged friends – he damn near trips as one of the dogs barrels under him sniffing for Boo.

Rob's ambling up slowly behind them, unfazed by it all. "Sammy. Don't let me pressure you into anything. But. I was wondering. Did you bring your tools?"

Sam's head is back to spinning again. Eventually…. somehow he manages to get himself and the dog out of the truck.

Sarah's holding him tight in a hug before he knows it. The rest of the mob are circling and barking around them - a thousand noises of nonsense and everything gone light.

"For goodness sake, Rob. Let him rest – at least for today." Sarah still hasn't let go of him - her chin on his shoulder and excessive kisses to the cheek.

Mason has taken Boo back toward the house. The dog loves it already; it's right up his alley - a boy and a ball and the company of other dogs.

"We're just waiting for Emma to get back from a friend's house...then we'll all have some lunch," Sarah's hustling Sam to get his bag - and pushing Rob into seeing if there's anything he can do.

She links her arm with Sam's as they walk down the drive. He smiles as she sighs happy and loud, tells her "yeah, Sare. It's great to see you too".

...

Sam gets his bag in the spare room and takes a good look around. Sarah's always had good taste in furnishings, she has; it's real homely too. There's the odd photograph scattered about; a few of her and her family, a couple of Sam. One of their mother is sitting on a side table next to a vase full of bright, happy flowers – gerberas –

They remind him of Andy; every colour you could pick.

(He actually bought them for a few times; once after her first 'I love you'…when he'd been such a douche. He rocked up to her doorstep the next morning; coffee in one hand, the flowers in the other; "Hey…ah…about last night….sorry I didn't stick around". She was all mussed-up-hair-sleepy at the door and wearing one of his shirts; leant in and head-butted his chest.

He almost said "I love you too" – right there on the spot; lifted her chin using the coffee cup, and kissed her real soft instead).

He touches a flower and then picks up the photo cautiously, traces a finger around the frame.

He remembers the day it was taken; Thanksgiving a good few years back – Sam just back from one of his UC's. She's got half a smile in it; not even posed. She was on the porch after lunch just watching Sam and the kids play some tag.

Sam lets out a breath…shaky and slow. Finally he makes his way along the hall - shouting out to Sarah: "goin' down".

As Sam heads for the basement, he stops halfway…enough to gather his thoughts and maintain focus again –

He knocks on the door, and waits.

"Come in," his mother says softly. "Come in…"

Sam opens the door – practically edges into the room like he's little again – before getting over himself.

"Hi, mum," Sam's voice goes to the level of hers. He sits himself carefully beside her; touches her shoulder gently and leans across to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Sammy.. Nice to see you," she says smiling slightly, lightly reaching for his face.

"I know… I know, it's been too long - again. Sorry...I...".

(He rings them all once a week, at least. It's about all he can handle sometimes, but there are weeks he feels compelled to give more – whatever he can -

The last time he was out here was months and months ago…early on when things were new with Andy. He hadn't exactly lied to her about where he was going. He hadn't told her _anything_, actually… just drove here late on the Friday and back to Toronto asap the next day; picked up Andy that night to take her out to some Mexican joint she wanted to try. He fed her up on tacos and tequila to make sure she kept the conversation about her…and light.

He…yeah, he just wasn't ready for her to know so much…. And as it turned out, it wasn't such a great day; it was to celebrate his mother's birthday but she wasn't much in a celebratory mood… just couldn't muster the courage to even get out of bed).

"Sh. Sam. It's okay," his mother says quietly. "I understand".

She looks away from Sam then, turns her attention to Henry; the overfed, loyal and constant feline friend who is curled up on her other side.

"I thought this time you might bring Andy," she says to him out of the blue. Sam is - Well. It takes him by surprise to say the least.

(He hadn't even thought she was listening, he thought she was asleep; him sitting by the bed holding her hand most of that day telling her stories of Andy like it was some fucking fairytale.

He'd avoided telling Sarah _anything_ – save the accidental slip of her name. She'd pestered him good and solid over lunch saying all sorts of things; "I'm lookin' at you, and I just _know_ there's _someone_"… that sort of shit. He thought he was nipping it in the bud when he took in the plates;

"Her name is Andy. Now. Can we please leave it Sarah? It's just…it's just too new" Sam thought he was going to throw up as he said it, he felt like it was cheating on Andy; everything and all that she meant to him over three years and change).

"She, um. She had to go away for work for a while". Sam says softly to his mother – realizing he's avoided telling Sarah about the befores, the break-up, and everything that's happened since. "But. Next time. I definitely hope she can come…next time." Sam feels a lump in his throat forming; pictures Andy in the room now – her and that lion's heart. She'd probably talk his mother's ear off; he figures that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Sam's mother is looking back at him now intently; watching his mind work – a seconds grace where she can avoid her own, probably.

(When he goes UC, he's pretty sure Sarah uses similar terminology to let their mother know, actually: "away for work…" – probably even says it with a _he just had to step out of the office_ kind of tone).

"I'd like that," is what his mother says next.

There's a surge in Sam's chest, and it's pretty damn strong. He nods his head and smiles at her - "You coming up for lunch, mum?"

There's a pause after his question, at least a couple of beats. She looks down at the cat and pets him slowly. "Not today, Sam. I'm feeling a bit tired."

She's looking pretty tired too, dark circles under her eyes and her skin very pale.

"Okay...ah…you need anything else?" Sam gives her another kiss on the cheek - then stands.

She shakes her head and smiles small at him - hears her call out softly as he walks through the door; "maybe next time".

…

Lunch itself is the opposite of the basement studio eerie quiet; it's the typical...rumble...he remembers of the rest of Sarah's house. Emma has a squillion girlfriends over, that she just "needed" to invite. There are kids and dogs and adults and, Sam thinks, way too much clattering of utensils and plates. It's a flurry of activity, all action stations between the hours of 12 and 2. And there's enough food to feed an army, Sarah serving it up like they're in a platoon. In amongst it all, she loads up an extra plate real careful... the smallest amount of gravy - barely splashed on the meat.

"Not sure that mum's hungry," Sam tells Sarah looking at it - then loading more onto his own. "Actually. She's probably asleep".

"Yeah. Well. She's gotta eat." There's a hint of _something_ tense in Sarah's voice as she says it - maybe just the stress of today. But – its there and it makes Sam feel pretty guilty... as per a lot of the time.

(He feels bad that Sarah gets the burden of responsibility when it comes to their mother; but she'd seriously insisted for the longest of times. As teenagers, they used to both read all they could get their hands on about depressive disorders –

One day Sam just stopped; when he was with the foster family, any time he thought about her was spent reading other stuff instead).

"You want me to take it to her?" It's a token gesture, and Sam knows it – but right now he has to do _something_ to stop himself from feeling like he's fucking 12 again.

Sarah goes to give him the plate but then puts it down on the bench; hugs Sam instead. "I'm sorry, Sammy. It's not you… she's just…it's been a tough few weeks".

Sam gets his arms around his sister and kisses her on the head. "Hey. Hey. You do an amazing job".

(She does. She absolutely does. She is fearless and wild when it comes to doing everything to keep her family on the right track -

Sam actually thought their mum would've passed by now – finally let herself be in some kind of peace. He wonders now what she's waiting for; wonders if she's decided to live only to keep punishing herself).

"You. Uh. You want me to take some time off. Come and help for a while?" Sam actually means it this time.

He figures some time away from Toronto and everything might be good for _him_ too. He knows it might be tricky to swing it; but he's almost certain Frank would give him the support.

Sarah leans back and narrows her eyes at him: "Alright, hold up. What's going on with you?"

Before Sam can open his mouth to answer, she's off and running again: "Don't think that I've forgotten about all the gaps you haven't filled," she starts snorting. "Andy? Detective? Ring any bells?".

But, it's like all of a sudden Sam's on a new mission –

All that stuff can wait…is _making_ him wait….

Right now he doesn't want things with what he _does_ have in terms of family to be a case of too little, too late…

He pulls his sister back into a hug - mumbles to the side of her head; "I want to, Sare. I want to. Just. Let me, okay?"

And, because his sister is as stubborn as he is, she pulls back again and looks him in the eye: "You, me and the front porch tonight, little brother…and as many bottles of red as it takes…"


	8. Cheap Wine and a Three Day Growth

A/N This chapter takes place the night of the preceding chapter. It was originally going to be delivered in flashbacks during what will eventually become Chapter 9 (which is now almost ready to be posted too...) I guess this just took on a life of it's own - so, well...let's see how it goes.

Thanks again for the reviews, hope you're still enjoying the ride!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

"So?" Sarah sighs, opening the second bottle of wine. It's a nice night out. They're sitting in the rockers on the porch, dinner well and truly done. Sam looks over at his sister as she dutifully tops up their wine glasses. The combination of moonlight and shadow on her face makes her look like she's some sort of comic-strip superhero.

"What's the deal with Andy?" The rest of her question comes out as a drop of red escapes over the side of Sam's glass. He watches as it runs all the way down.

She's clever with conversation, Sarah is. Has walked him through his new detective-hood, and slipped this little gem into the very next heartbeat. "The last time you mentioned her name you made me think I might even meet her…"

Sam turns his face away from her and looks over his shoulder, so he can get a watch on the front door. He assumes after a few seconds that Rob and the kids have decided to watch some movies after all; figures then that Sarah instructed that that be the case.

Sam blows out a long and heavy breath.

He's talked around McNally as much as he could with Sarah for the last god knows how many months. His sister wasn't that stupid though, she always could read him like a book –

It didn't help that Sam couldn't help but bring Andy's name up (albeit vaguely) at least once in every damn phone call he made….

Sam realizes suddenly how he's carefully avoided McNally as a topic in the phone calls since, well…since back when-

He swallows hard a few times - then takes the leap. "Things went south – um, when…." _Jesus._ Even within the safe presence of Sarah, it's real hard for Sam to say. He pictures it though; a thousand flashing snapshots of danger, uncertainty and grief lay themselves down across the table that is his mind. "I kinda lost the plot when Jerry died".

(He still thinks about Jerry at least once a day – often it's in the morning, right around the time they'd normally go for some one-on-one. Some mornings, when he's feeling like shit he takes the watch out of the lock-box and talks to him – mainly just tells him about the cases he's on. On some occasions it's about other stuff. Sometimes it's gossip from the division, or updates on Ollie, Noelle, and Frank. Sometimes it goes deeper still…about how he thinks Nash and Leo are awesome…about how he misses Andy…about how he wishes _he_ was still around…)

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long while either – she just sits there looking at him; an expression that Sam doesn't want to have to read on her face.

The heavy weight of the air ranks right up there with the very few other stretches of silence she's previously offered up to Sam. In fact, the only other time in Sam's adult history that she went this quiet with him was the day Lucy walked out of his life.

(Sarah wasn't even that big of a fan of his one time partner-partner. She was just intrigued by Lucy because she was the only woman that was more than colleague - and not family - that Sam had ever kept as a constant in his life for more than a year –

For a fleeting moment, Sam wonders where Lucy is now. He figures she's got kids – at least… Sam hopes she does).

Sarah only met Jerry a couple of times, but she knew he was Sam's _brother_, so to speak…would've been at his funeral if it weren't for every other responsibility she had in her life. She clears her throat eventually, tops up Sam's wine. "What's Jerry dying got to do with Andy?"

Well. Sarah never was one to make things easy on him, that's for damn sure.

Sam lets out a mirthless laugh, swishes the glass of red in his hand. "Everything and nothing," he murmurs - And as though to emphasize just how screwed up he is…or at least…was at that time, "nothing and everything…."

Sarah raises an eyebrow and takes a long sip of the red that's in her own hands. After another long pause, she runs her tongue across her top teeth and stares out to a point further across the yard. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

(The way he explained Lucy's departure: _she told me now or never: marriage and kids…. The thought of all of that with her - when she said it…. didn't make any sense to me. _After about 5 minutes of silence, Sarah had nodded, pulled out a smirk and suggested: "It's not you. It's her"-

Even after all this time, Sam's not all that convinced).

Sam sets the wine down next to his feet now; figures it's either that or he'll drink the lot in one eye-popping swig. He gets his face in his hands and rubs at his eyes. "I told you before. I should've been there for _him_". Sam's not sure how much good this little chat is going to do him – he'd already gone a long way toward forgiving himself for Jerry's death. For all Sam knows, regurgitating this stuff could bring him completely undone. He figures though that he needs to at least make an attempt at explaining the connection…as he saw it back then.

"I guess.." Sam breathes out carefully, pictures Andy the day Peck was taken very clearly in his mind. "I've got a shitty sense of figuring out how to…" and this really is so fucking difficult to convey. Sam hopes like hell that Sarah will finish some sentences for him here – interpret his body language and then translate all this crap that's running around in his brain -

"How to feel what you feel for her…and still be true to all those other parts of you?" Sarah asks quietly.

Sam exhales. In that moment he feels…grateful… He feels grateful (…?) that Sarah has been through all those years with counsellors and what have you. He also feels relieved that she knows… Well. She knows _him_. She knows him - and his need to store moments and memories in compartments –

She also knows that some of Sam's compartments have crappy locks.

He gives himself some more silent moments to think of all the lines he's blurred this past year or so. Of how it was a constant struggle to get his head in the game – of how his heart felt like it was going to either stop, race, or trip any time he was near Andy… of how his head felt like it might explode.

He thinks of the safety he felt when she _wasn't_ around; of when she was the woman he could love from a distance – of how he figured he could be her partner, without letting her get tangled up in the rest - -

Of how much easier things were when he could assume that she _didn't_ love him.

The first part of what Sam says next is like some sort of autopilot that's just clicked right in: "I do my job the way I need to do it. Before she came along it was the only part of my life that was simple and easy; everything in its place – even when I did break a few rules". But –

In the next moments he feels as though he's freefalling, unsure of whether the parachute will pop open when he pulls at the chord. "I do my _life_ the way I need to do it too. I need …space…or, or, something". And because another series of images flash through his mind -

"And Andy…. I t_hought_ she was getting too close".

Sarah puts a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Can you… can you, just…tell me about her Sam?" Sam takes a closer look at his sister. Not for the first time he wonders how she's managed to be who she is. Her face has gone open and warm – like a signal to Sam that she trusts him to be as frank as he can. He knows that whatever he says will play into her own feelings for Andy – knows that her trust for an outsider needs to be earned...

Something inside Sam just …. _gives_ -

He sits very still for the next good hour or so. He recounts the story in even more detail than he did for his mother; that time he thought she was asleep. He takes it all the way from the start. He's completely honest with Sarah; fills in the gaps that he carefully avoided first time around. As he sits with her now, he alternates between using the names Andy and McNally – makes a conscious effort from distinguishing the rookie he trained to the woman he loves.

As he tells the story, he's beginning to think that it's actually helping _him_ to see things a little more clearly now. He stops every now and then to process the parts where he stumbles – how things were after Brennan, how he was always waiting for Andy's other shoe to land –

He realizes now that his mistrust …. in their relationship… was completely unfair. Not because of those feelings…but because he never let Andy in on jwhat they were.

He always just expected that one day - because he just _loved_ her - things would just get better – he'd have figured some shit out for himself.

He finishes the story by confessing to Sarah that he's never felt what he feels for Andy…for anyone…. and that that alone is probably the thing that does his head… and heart…. in the most.

Finally he looks back to his sister… to see her watching him – a broken heart written all over her own face. "Oh, Sam…" she sighs and shakes her head. She puts a hand out and rests it on his knee.

Sam looks up at the moon, wonders now if McNally and Collins are safe. Sometime in the last half hour or so he figured he'd put another message across to Jones, just to check everything's still okay. He'd be lying if he wasn't also thinking of feeling her out about how much longer they might be -

Sarah pulls herself into a straight posture and has another sip of her wine. "Hmm. Well. I'm gonna say some stuff now. You _know_ I am". She smiles over at him, testing. "And I don't want you to say anything else…I just…I just want you to really, really hear what I'm trying to tell you. And then I want you to think…." She checks in with him again, an eyebrow raised.

Sam feels the glow of the red wine come over him, figures he's got nowhere else to be tonight. He attempts a relatively sarcastic smirk at Sarah, but bites it down when her face goes serious –

Truth be told, he's feeling some fairly intense level of serious about all of this himself. Finally, Sam nods his head; gives his sister a tiny smile and tells her "hit me," as he leans back into his seat.

"First things first. I _do_ get how hard it must be to work so closely with someone you care about so much…. in your line of work". Sam eyes flicker downward; _yeah, before McNally came along he really thought he had learned that particular lesson first time around._

Sarah continues on: "Can't be easy when you know you both face….being hurt….or worse, every day. I mean, I know I would struggle to let Rob out of my sight if I thought there was a possibility he'd be taking a bullet to the head some day". Sarah looks away then, like all of a sudden she's remembering for _herself_ that something like that could happen to _Sam_…not like it hasn't already almost happened more times than they both care to count.

Sam has no idea how to protect her from those thoughts either, has no fucking idea what to say. He knows she knows he's a cop because of her…knows that if anything happened to him on the job….."Sarah…."

"No. Sam. It's okay," she butts in. "I accepted a long time ago that you are…" she stops – obviously trying to think of the most appropriate word…. "and will always be, a protector." She looks back at him, waits for the eye contact to happen. "And I accept every single incredibly flawed and flawless piece of that...and all the other parts of what makes you…you".

Sam's immediate response is just to smile. He knows for a fact that Sarah loves him so much, she'd probably be willing to take a bullet for him – if it came to it. Still, it always means a lot to hear her say it. It always makes him feel like it doesn't much matter about anything else.

He opens his mouth to try and lighten the moment. It's been a big day all round- Sarah stops him though. "Just. Just let me finish. Please. Sam". She looks away again, this time back to the moon.

She swallows a few times and then turns to face him. "Everything you've been through Sam? Every. Single. Thing…. I get why it's hard. It's hard for me too. I get why it's so damn hard to trust someone with all of your pieces…I get why those pieces and shards feel so damn splintered and sharp". As she says it, her eyes flicker –with just a couple of the tiny, tiniest tears.

She has momentum though, her voice getting more and more determined; like some wild horse at a gate. "I get why you don't want anyone to cut themselves on those pieces….why you think they might get hurt. But. You know what?" Sam wonders if she might stand up here – wear a path across the porch to emphasise her point. He feels his own chest swelling with the passion she conveys.

"Under sunlight those shards can be the exact opposite of things that cause pain. They can be _beautiful_…. and bright...you just. You just need to come out of the dark. _Let_ other people _see_...".

It's at this moment that Sam really, really gets why Sarah is such a great mum. She doesn't only see what is in front of her…she sees _through_ it…and can show you what else is there.

"Because of who you are, Sam….because of _all_ of your pieces….you deserve to be loved ….you deserve to let yourself love….you deserve to feel the type of safety that has _nothing_ to do with bullet proof vests".

At this point the night air has gone cool and crisp, Sam feels a shiver up his spine – even as he takes another sip of warmth from the wine. He considers interjecting again, but really…there's not a single thing he can say.

Sarah taps at his knee. "You cannot sit here and tell me now, that despite any dark times you've been through with Andy….that _she_ doesn't remind you of sunshine and light". At this point, Andy's smile won't get out of Sam's damn head, so he figures that particular sentiment is generally right.

Sarah's voice goes quiet again as she squeezes Sam's knee. "I don't know where she is or what she is thinking, but if she _does _love you…she'll be waiting for you too. And. Next go around…. if she really does love you and _shows_ you that….take it….and just…just be open to really, really showing your love too".

Sam takes another swig of the wine - then finally breaks the pause that's lingering between them. He gets it now, he does. Feels it in every part of his bones. Still, he doesn't want to start thinking about how hard all the _doing_ in that might be...not just yet -

So. He figures now is the time to loosen things up. "Hate to break it to you Sare, but I'd already decided to do just that". Sam rolls his eyes thinking that all of this could still be too late "Assuming, of course...she actually does come back".

He smirks at her finally, gets a hand on her shoulder and rubs. "Appreciate the pep talk though". And because he actually did need to hear some of those other non-Andy related parts of the speech: "And…I…ah…will always be amazed by your faith in _me_".

Sarah, _pffts_ at him, "Well, that is something that _you_ have earned. As for Andy, if there is a whiff of potential that she's going to break you, she will have me to answer to, okay?". Sam snorts; that the Swarek siblings will always have one another's back is….and always will be….a fete de compli.

Sam's laughs a little more at her ...and that wild expression that she gets on her face - when he spots Mason making his way out on to the porch. "Couldn't sleep – all the dogs took over my bed," the kid says rubbing his eyes.

Sam gets up from his rocker and takes the boys hand. "Let's see what we can do about that, buddy".

As they walk toward the door, Sam looks over his shoulder at Sarah: "Oh, and about me helping out here for a while? I won't take no for an answer. It's time for me to show you that I've still got _your_ back".


	9. Every Day is Like a Hurricane

A/N Thanks again for the lovely reviews! I do apologise again that I'm so slack in terms of personal replies. My time is being squeezed from various directions at the moment, but I do hope to keep updates on this story at a reasonably frequent rate. Special thanks again to the wonderful **balladofbliss** who let me adopt her version of Sam's family for my own framework. I may be colouring outside her lines a little with them, but my heart is all there!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue, Powderfinger lyrics, or any of O Henry's works.**

* * *

Sam's in the bathroom shaving this morning when Mason ambles on in - similar in fashion to that night out on the porch, actually. The kid's pretty handy at getting himself ready for school, but he's rubbing at his eyes and yawning this morning like maybe he didn't sleep properly last night.

(A few weeks in time-off is what Frank gave Sam - and he thinks that's more than fair. It was negotiated subject to him sticking around the Division for a couple of weeks to help Nash tie up some loose ends. Not that Sam minded that at all either – as it was, he felt bad about leaving her in the lurch -

"Don't be ridiculous, Swarek". Nash had rolled her eyes at him when he said he'd just go for a week – and, well…that she could call him any time. "Go do your thing. Get whatever you need sorted out." Then, as she and Ollie cheersed him a little later at The Penny: "Gonna miss you this next few weeks, dude" -

Sam had a sneaking suspicion on the first week in that he missed them all too).

….

"Mum and Dad say I'm too young for a girlfriend. What do you think?" Mason asks now.

(It's not the first time the boy has sought Sam's opinion in the last couple of weeks. He seems particularly interested for example, in what it means to be a cop).

Sam eyes the kid closely – all shaggy hair and oversize top. He's got a look on him that suggests he is actually interested in what advice Sam might dish out here. Sam figures it slipped Sarah's mind to ward her son off using his uncle as a role model.

"What do you know about girlfriends?" Sam figures answering a question with a question is always a safe bet.

Mason shrugs his shoulders high, the collar of his shirt practically swallowing his nose. "When you've got a friend…that's a girl…," the kid starts cautiously, checking in with Sam as he goes.

Sam stops with the shaving and pats at his face, turns to face Mason properly – both of them lean into the vanity and put a hand on a hip; (could be the boy is picking up some of Sam's mannerisms too). "That might want to hang around you, and…. um….and maybe kiss you sometimes?" Mason says the last part real quick, tripping over half the words like he's in some sort of hurdle race - scrunching up his nose on the _kiss_ for added effect.

_Yeah, buddy. _ Sam thinks_ – It can be a bit like running into a brick wall._ But because Sam's not that irresponsible, and doesn't want to leave any hideous images in the boys head –

He nods, slow and deliberate. "Sounds about right". Sam hardly thinks the kid is anywhere near old enough for anything beyond doctors and nurses; all in all, it's not like he's about to have to discuss the ins and outs in relationship to any birds and bees.

(Sam thinks back to a time when he was Mason's age – despite Sam having probably seen a whole lot more in that short time, there wasn't a girlfriend in sight. He hung around a few at school for sure, even managed to get himself kissed by a couple a little older than him. But – his house was never really the house to have friends at, and Sam was always better off just keeping some parts of his life to himself).

"You have one, don't you?" Mason queries with his eyebrows raised – butting into Sam's thoughts; he's shuffling his school-shoe-clad-feet on the tile and tapping some fingers against his hip.

"Any reason you need answers in a hurry, buddy?" Two can play at this game Sam reasons. He feels pretty proud of himself that he's managed not to let an eight-year-old get one over him yet. Sam wonders though whether he should do a fast phone-a-friend; call up Ollie or Nash for some quality advice.

"Maybe," Mason rolls his eyes. The impatience gets too much for him eventually: "C'mon, Uncle Sam!" The boy's seriously glaring at him now like he remembers Andy did once or twice.

_(Pistachio icecream, and: yeah, well-it's summer, Sam)._

Sam does a mental recap on Mason's definition of the g-word – friends and hanging out and kissing kind of stuff. He has to tamper down the recollection of a particular part of _that_ porch-light conversation he had with Sarah a few weeks ago…

(She actually asked him about the sex with McNally at one point for god's sake. "What, Sam? I'm just checking that it's not the only thing you were both in it for!" Granted it was well after Mason had gone back to bed, and they were a good way into their third bottle of wine. Still –

Later when he turned in for the night, it wasn't just Andy's smile that he couldn't get out of his head).

…...

Sam decides to be as honest with the boy as he can, "Ah…I'm actually not real sure buddy. I think it's a case of…not quite…"

Mason's got a look all over his face like _huh, wha…?_

Sam decides it's only fair to try and explain things a little further – maybe it'll serve to get it clear in _both_ of their heads. "It's … ah…complicated, Mase." Sam wonders whether he should take this conversation somewhere else, surely to god Emma wants to use the bathroom by now. On second thoughts, he figures a third party distraction wouldn't hurt so much; he hopes like hell it happens soon –

He looks down at the boy, still waiting…and watching Sam's face very closely. Sam sighs. "The girl that used to be my girlfriend…"

"Andy." Mason corrects.

Sam snorts. "Yeah…" _kids_ "…Andy".

(And alright, okay. It's possible Mason and Emma have taken to asking some McNally related questions this past couple of weeks – Sam's pretty sure Sarah's put them up to it:

_Is she pretty? How old is she? Does she like dogs?..._A whole mountain of things – some of which, Sam is ashamed to admit…he doesn't really know the answer for).

"Um. Yeah". Sam scratches at his neck, flicks his eyes to the doorway to check no one else is standing there. "Well…the thing is that I want her to be my girlfriend again," and Sam really does not know how to put this, but he'll do his best: "But. I kinda messed up."

"How?" Mason demands. And, alright then. Sam could see that coming - he swears in this past couple of weeks that Sam's been here, the kid's grown some extra spunk. "Did you not kiss her properly, or something?"

Sam lets out a loud laugh and throws back his head – sends his prayers to the _somethings_ up there to help him get out of this hole he dug himself in. While he's got his eyes up on the light fixture he thinks of the last time he and Andy kissed.

(Well – the last time he kissed her properly, that is –

It was the night he dropped her back at her place… before she got a needle stuck in her neck.

She was in his lap in the truck; murmuring in his ear with a hot breath "gonna miss you tonight…" -

It's fair to say that he did more than kiss her right then and there.)

Sam snaps out of the memory; briefly mentally slaps himself _again_ with the thought that he should've walked her to her door – her protests be damned –

_Seriously, Sam. If I let you come up, you won't be getting out of there._

"The Kissing definitely was not a problem," Sam says a little too snottily to Mason – has to stop himself from rolling his own eyes. "In fact: I've been told I was pretty good at that." _Jesus._ He feels like he's back in a playground again. Then, because Mason looks like he might be about to quiz him about something related to _that _particular piece of information, "more like the _something _that I didn't do so well."

Mason appraises Sam, looking him up and down, eventually he blurts: "Jenny Roberts says I don't talk to her enough".

And there you have it. At eight years of age, his nephew is already learning some lessons the hard way. Sam nods his head and puts a hand on the boys shoulder, "do you like this Jenny Roberts?" Then, because he feels a sudden urge to clarify "I mean…do you _want_ her to be your friend?"

Sam watches Mason thinking things over. "Well….," the boy ponders, twitching his mouth and scratching at his chin. "She does play soccer." Mason starts nodding his 8 year old head, like he's made the decision once and for all. "And we have fun when we play together".

Sam smiles at the boy - can't help himself really. Truth be told, he's smiling at the thought of some day just hanging around McNally again; before things went south they really did have fun. His stomach does a flip-flop when he wonders what will happen if she's decided in all this time away that she _doesn't_ want that …and more, too….

(It's this waiting and not knowing that is seriously, seriously killing him – more than ever before. He texted Jones about the situation a couple of days back: _getting close on that case?_ - she responded with a simple: _Keep calm. Best case scenario is another month or so_).

"Sounds like you've worked this whole thing out for yourself buddy." Sam says rubbing at Mason's shoulder and directing him to the hallway. They have to get moving; Sam has to get both the kids to school. "But. For what it's worth: I think maybe you should let Jenny know you definitely want to be her friend," Sam looks down at Mason as they walk, wonders what other questions the boy might ask during the rest of his stay. "And the thing about talking more – maybe just …take it slow?"

Sam stops them outside the kitchen as he spots Emma on the phone – he gives her some very clear hand signals; _times up, let's go_. He turns back to Mason, on second thoughts "Still – good friends _do_ talk, right? They_ do_ share things that are important to them?"

The boy nods his head, an affirmative response. Sam gives another slow smile, "Yeah. Well. I'm gonna make sure I do some talking to Andy when she comes back too".

…...

When Sam gets back from dropping the kids at school, he goes about the rest of what has become his daily routine.

(A few days into Sam's visit, Sarah and Rob took him up on the offer and decided to take some time out …headed themselves off to some relaxation resort. Sam's pretty sure that aside from Sarah's nightly phone calls to check in, her and Rob pretty much spend their time actively forgetting about what's going on back home).

The routine is a combination of things – and they all help with keeping Sam sane:

He spends a little time with his mum in her studio –reads to her usually. She has a whole bookshelf of classics; O Henry's _Roads of Destiny_ is what she requested this week.

…..

These past few days Sam has even managed to convince his mother to spend some time out on the porch. She watches him from one of the rockers now – as he gets all sweaty with mowing the grass.

She smiles at him as he serves up some sandwiches a couple of hours later, tells him quietly "I'm going to miss you when you go home".

(Every day he's finding it a little easier to be around her – the sadness becoming somewhat less of a weight. He thinks it's because he's really got his head around not expecting anything from her – that and despite the worst of the down days, she really has made an effort just to show…_love_ –

Yesterday she had some photos pulled out that she had refused to look at for years; a _tiny, tiny_ Sam and Sarah with their father – before he went to jail).

He pours her some tea and assures her now, "will visit more often… whenever I can". He hopes silently next time he visits it'll be with Andy, but knows deep down that's a pretty big stretch.

…...

He's also taken to running more frequently – not to or from anything, just pounding some pavement while he listens to music – making sure he processes whatever is going on in his head…or just letting himself take in the simplicity of the day

(Afternoons he gets more exercise by walking the dogs with the kids, but his running time has become more and more essential – it's just for _himself_ -)

And – because he does miss the mob back at division 15, he puts in the odd call to Toronto – just to check where things are at.

When he gets back from his run today he's actually got some text action from Nash: _The grapevine was right. New TO: She has 'tude._

Sam is about to hit the call button and suss the situation out when he gets something similar from Peck: _Do TO's take some course in how to make life hell?_

Sam decides not to call either of the girls; wants to get an old hand opinion on the situation instead –

When Shaw finally picks up, Sam hears some commotion in the background. Sam recognises it very distinctly now: family time. "Sammy! We'll be seeing you next week, yeah?" Then before Sam can respond: "I hate to admit it, but we miss you brother. So much so that I'm lining up the welcome back committee as I speak".

Sam smiles to himself more than anything, takes a swig of some water and finally clears his throat. "I hear the new personnel has finally come through".

Shaw lets out a dry laugh. "Um, yeah. Cruz. Could be rubbing some people up the wrong way." Ollie laughs a bit more and then catches his breath. "You'll like her though. Does her job well. Straight-shooter; no room for BS".

Sam chews the inside of his cheek and is careful with his words. "Okay. Well – just. Keep an eye on her treatment of Peck?"

There's silence at the other end of the line for a good twenty seconds or so. Then, like Shaw's trying to hold in a snort, "Detective Sam Swarek – promoting the fair and just treatment of rookies everywhere".

Sam let's out a half-laugh himself, really doesn't want to get into the middle of anything that's not his concern, still –

"C'mon, Ollie. You know …. she's been through a lot".

Ollie goes quiet again for a little while, Sam listens to the exhale at the other end of the phone. "S'okay, buddy. I'll keep a watch".

…...

The rest of the afternoon flies by in a flash for Sam; between caretaking dogs, cleaning, shopping and dinner preparations, most hours are spent with him pottering about like some sort of domesticated fool.

By the time he goes to pick Emma and Mason up, he's feeling pretty beat. He's already dreading what sort of homework questions might be thrown at him; considers as he approaches the school that he might convince the whole family to turn in early for the night.

He gets out of the truck to wait for them this afternoon, is leaning up against it when he sees a woman he recognises as Miss Preece, one of Emma's teachers approaching the gate. She smiles and waves at Sam like every other time he's seen her this time of the day.

He feels his heart rate pick up just the slightest when she actually walks over to him – He can't imagine Emma doing anything bad, but his immediate concern turns to how he might handle the situation if that's the case.

"Sam, hi." She smiles brightly at him. "You're still in town. Not sure why, but I thought Sarah and Rob would be back by now". She's an attractive blonde; Sam puts her at about Andy's age. There's real warmth to her smile – it's matched by her cashmere sweater and bouncing ponytail.

"Hi…ah…" Sam smiles back; for whatever reason, he really does _not_ want to call her Miss Preece. He tries to jog his memory – Sarah left copious instructions and notes, but didn't once mention any first names when it came to teaching staff.

"Kate. It's Kate," she grins, cocking her head a little so that her ponytail swings over her shoulder.

"Kate," Sam nods. "They're back in a couple of days". For the life of him, Sam doesn't know where this is headed – although he's gradually becoming less _unaware._

(He's never really entered into the politics of flirting – he was always just one to be deliberately cruisey; proceed with caution, go steady…but with the flow).

He notices her bite her lip, a slight frown crinkling her forehead. "You'll be leaving after that?"

Sam studies Kate's face for a few moments, a tiny smile grows on his face. She really is pretty – and seems very sweet. She's got a blush, but is managing to hold eye contact with him.

(And. Sam really is dense sometimes – he's just remembering now a conversation he had with Emma on the way home from school a few days ago. _Miss Preece asked me if you're going to be moving here_).

In another world and a long time ago he would've got a sitter for the kids tonight, taken Kate Preece out and had a good time. It would've been perfect in that world, actually. What with him going back to Toronto and all. He would've let her visit a few times, would've seen her when he came to spend time with his family. Pretty quickly it'd work itself out – she'd move on eventually; marry someone other than Sam.

He wonders fleetingly what else Kate Preece has got going on in her life; feels his heart race when it picks up on a distinct thought that Andy simply is…the only one that he wants - more than anything - to know absolutely everything about.

Sam nods again. "Yeah, I'm going home." He smiles to himself. "Want to be there for the moment when someone I've been missing comes home too".


	10. And it comes around yeah it comes around

AN: Hm, oversight in the last chapter: As in, I didn't alert you to the minor spoiler regarding season 4 (the introduction of the new TO Marlo Cruz). Thankfully, it's not much of a spoiler though, I assume most people reading this are aware of the new characters being introduced! Anyways, anything that I use them for… or any situation in this particular chapter or beyond….. is from my imagination and/or speculation – nothing else.

Also, I would like to shout out a HUGE thanks to Enits3 for responding to my call for some help with this chapter! She is the best!

In terms of the criminality alluded to in this chapter and the one that will be up next, I elected to go down the path I did for various reasons – a lot of detail is fairly vague, and some…well, you'll probably just have to suspend disbelief. Mind you, I don't feel so bad about that given the show itself makes us do that so often itself!

For all those readers hanging out for McNally's return, it looks like you might not have to wait too much longer….maybe ;)

Last, but no way the least - thanks again for those taking the time to drop a review...you're definitely helping to keep things ticking along!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam's in the office with Nash flicking through some case files on his third day back when Frank knocks on the door. He's got this look on his face like maybe he's just been served a _step up, or else_ from the higher echelon.

Frank tips his chin in the direction of downstairs. "Can I, ah…get you two joining in for parade?" It's not a question, really – despite how nervous the boss seems. Nash exchanges a look of _uh-oh_ as Frank leads them out the door. Sam shrugs his shoulders back, nudges an elbow to bump her along.

(The past couple of days have been _quiet_, is the thing. Almost _too_ quiet for Sam's liking, actually – it's been somewhat reminiscent of so many other calms before storms.

Still. It's helped Sam ease his head back into a significantly more undomesticated side of life. He left his family at the end of last week with promises of another visit real soon; since getting back to work it's taken him some sweet time to properly focus on _any_ of the criminal cases they have on hand).

…...

Sam and Nash sit themselves up the back of room, squeezing their backsides on the bench next to Ollie and the new TO. Ollie quirks an eyebrow at them, and pats Sam on the back. Cruz smiles and winks; she's friendly to he and Ollie - that's for sure.

(Another thing Sam's had a chance to do these last couple of days: monitor Cruz. He played some pool with the rookies last night – got a variety of opinions about her, none of which could label her as unfair. It didn't get past Sam that Peck stayed pretty quiet on the matter though. He took her aside before he left for home, noticed how she didn't look him in the eye when she declared:

"Swarek, it's fine. I made my bed," and then, as Sam rolled his eyes: "Besides. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself," in a retort that wasn't the tone of her usual bored self.

Sam was convinced he was suffering from lockjaw the whole way home).

Sam glances sideways at Cruz now as she turns to flash another grin at him –figures his jury on her will stay out a little while yet.

…...

Frank claps his hands a couple of times, snapping Sam away from his thoughts. "Listen up, people". Sam is guessing the boss is doing some clutching at straws – by the way he pointedly clears his throat:

"Two words: Crystal. Meth." There's a low groan that rolls across the room, intermingled with a few curse words. Frank takes some time, licks at his lips and looks at whatever facts and figures he's got in his hands. When the room eventually goes silent, it stays that way.

It turns out this past couple of weeks have seen a rise in reported overdoses – some of which have occurred on local school grounds. "We're not sure where it's coming from, but neighbouring divisions are reporting a build up in stocks as well." Frank pauses, looks around the room. "I'm being told by outsiders that there's some distribution that's happening thick and fast". Sam nods his head, gets the seriousness of the situation quick-smart –

(The last time a wave of meth hit, the crime rate spiked by a ridiculous percent….not to mention the alarming fallout for the clusters of vulnerable young people turning to it as a form of escape).

"Where do you want us all on it, boss?" Sam says carefully to Frank; with a feeling he knows what the answer will be.

"Three pronged attack," Frank responds no nonsense, not particularly directing it to Sam. He serves up assignments that will last until further notice: Peck and the new rookie are on the preventative end – they'll be working with schools and youth centres to educate on matters of safety; harm and effect. The rest of the beat is in the middle; interviewing and monitoring any remotely related reports. Nash and Sam are assigned to work the case from the top end; try to trace the source, and how it's getting out.

When Best has finished up his _serve, protect, and let's get our streets clean_, he gets Sam's attention; beckons to pull him aside. Sam instructs Nash to go pull a particular file out then moves over to where Frank is. "Boss."

"I'm guessing we might be on the same page with somewhere to start?" Frank's practically whispering for reasons he probably won't bother Sam with.

"In terms of who, I know what you're thinking," Sam nods his head. "Only issue is: he always goes _outside_ to get stuff in". Sam wants to emphasise that fact here and now – he knows the bureaucratic nightmare that can happen with trying to work with and across other divisions…at this level anyway.

"Yeah," Frank huffs. "I'm onto it. Couple of other division leaders and I are meeting with the higher ups in a few days. Couldn't get it sorted for sooner than that". Frank sucks at his lower lip a little and thinks. "You guys keep a direct line to word on the streets". Then, to emphasize his point: "Get Shaw and Cruz giving you updates – as much as they can".

"Got it, boss," Sam nods – making some fairly heavy eye contact with Frank.

…...

When Sam gets back to his office, Nash has already got the file spread out. Nash lets out a ridiculously long breath, blows half a raspberry at the end. "Hill certainly has managed to get his fingers in a lot of pies, huh?"

(Months ago, Sam heard on the grapevine that Hill was branching out with his drug trade. The heroin business was complex and tricky; in times of economic recession Hill tended to diversify his approach – take on any trend that would make some quick bucks to tide him over between shipments of meatier stuff.

Sam thinks of Emily, wonders where she is now – prays to god or… _something_… that she's managed to keep safe –)

All of a sudden, Sam feels his heart rate pick up. When it comes to crap like this, he has _no_ problem with being focused on a case. Anton Hill may have been lying low for a while now, but definitely …he's the one with the connections and capacity to get things out _thick and fast_. If they can join the dots, and get him with this, well -

Sam can tick _that_ box off his list.

Sam moves to stand near Nash; fans some of the case notes out some more. "Fingers in pies…" Sam echoes quietly, sifting through some of Anton's old handy-work. He's not exactly sure where to start at the moment, but doesn't want to have any of his apprehension rub off on her. "That is…that is a fact". Sam chews at the inside of his cheek, considering –

The thing with Hill is he shifts about; manages to fly below the radar by using a tonne of semi-legit businesses as a disguise. Normally Sam would be out there doing some of his own legwork to track him down, but decides they're going to pinpoint him quicker if Ollie and Cruz follow his advice.

The complexity of the situation of course, is that Sam can't steer them toward anyone he thinks may be remotely _in_ on it all. If Hill gets a tip-off, things will go pear-shaped in less than a heartbeat. They're just going to have to get all Intel through the users themselves. Sam mentally separates his own contacts into two kinds of snitches. He'll give the two sets of names to Shaw and Cruz; one they'll very carefully talk to…or around – the other they'll _only_ listen out for the whereabouts of...

He decides to put a cautious call into Shaw first, puts his hand over the speaker to let Nash in on what he's about to say: "feel free to jot down these names…"

When Shaw picks up, he chastises Sam; "We're only just getting to our first gig now, brother". Sam can hear Epstein in the background asking for the parents of one of the overdose victims.

"S'okay Ollie, just hear me out." Sam proceeds to walk Shaw through the both sets of names. Every damn contact Sam has that has ever been a snitch – or has been snitched about. He remembers 95% of them – always, but this time motions to Traci to pass him his notebook. He flicks through the pages to be sure, finishes off by telling Shaw: "you hear _any_ one of those come up in conversation…in any way, let Nash or I know – straight away". It's the second set of names that will identify dealers; that in turn will point them to Hill.

Nash has got her eyes wide and mouth open when Sam gets off the phone. "These guys all tell you what's word on the street?"

"Depends," Sam says. He fills her in on the fact that he thinks they need everyone _off_ their list. If it is Hill at the centre of all of this, his ring will be big; everyone in town tends to either be in on the act – or get some sort of cut. "If we're left with just one of these idiots that no one says a single word about…that's the one we approach."

"Well. What if that one's just extra smart?" Nash queries, raising her eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be possible that he or she is just super close to Hill – never actually has to get their hands dirty…or that type of thing?" She's got her hand on her hip now; Sam can see her brain ticking along.

He smiles at her; open-mouthed – he's impressed is the thing. "Have I ever told you how much I love workin' with you, Nash?" And he does. Now that she's relaxed into the role, she's using an awesome balance of both her intellect and gut.

She smiles big back at him. "Ooh boy. I'm thinkin' Andy doesn't have a chance in hell if you keep up with that sort of charm".

It's a bit ridiculous, but Sam feels himself blush;has to turn away from Nash to tamp down a different kind of grin.

"C'mon, Swarek! What's our plan?" Nash is amped up now, pokes a finger hard into Sam's back.

Sam dials his face to serious and looks her in the eye. "Well. First things first, we're gonna give the same drill to Cruz and Diaz as we just did to Shaw and Epstein". Nash nods her head and puts the other hand on a hip. Sam, for what it's worth, can't keep his smile down –

He knows the case is dangerous; knows they're about to undertake some pretty significant risks…but he can't help it. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and Sam is fast figuring out that it's time for _chance_. "And after we've bided our time – waited for them to give us all that they've got…." He's teasing her a bit here; drawing the adrenalin out…."You and I might be lining up a little UC of our own".

Nash gets a lopsided smirk on her face, shapes a hand into a fist and gives it one simple and sharp pump mid-air.

…...

It takes a good few weeks: practically a month of a bunch of them working around the clock. The only life Sam's seen outside of the case is the fresh air of his morning runs, and afternoon walks with Boo.

(The dog's actually been coming to the station with him some nights – sits at his feet while the day gets processed and Sam thinks some things out).

Piece by piece, the information from all officers helps them to scratch most of the names off Sam's 'dealer' list. Nash and Sam join in on the task at that level too; scores of friends and families of new and known users being asked delicate questions about when's, who's, and where's.

The web they draw up is large; a number of dealers like Sam's never seen. Frank managed to get approval on close liaison with two of the neighbouring divisions, but the information is so sensitive it still has to pass through just a few sets of hands–

Sam and Nash stand in front of the whiteboard today looking on in awe. They're both wondering how the hell things aren't a whole lot worse than they are. The coppers have been chasing their tales with a bunch of thefts and violent crimes during the investigation, for sure…. But – Well. All in all, Sam is surprised that things haven't been way more devastatingly hectic than this.

From the patterns and themes emerging, it's evident that Hill _is_ a key to the game. What isn't certain though, is who or what he is linked to in terms of bringing stuff in. There's nothing to suggest manufacturing is actually taking place within the boundaries of the three divisions liaising. And the sheer volume of ephedrine required for these types of supplies is not really what _Hill's_ all about...

It's on that particular strain of thought that Sam rolls his eyes. He must've let out a groan too –

Nash has turned to him – eyes narrow and all. "Spill," she demands simply; obviously increasingly aware of his tells.

Sam rubs his face; motions to her to follow him back into the office and then closes the door. "We've run into something that someone probably thinks is none of our business." At her eyebrow quirk, he raises his own: _all will be revealed._ He calls a number on his mobile, and puts it on speakerphone.

"Swarek. Always so nice to hear from you, but I told you…" Jones is talking quietly, like she's just excused herself from a room.

"The focus of Project Dakota," Sam cuts her off. "The suspect that you said has _some_ sort of connection to Anton Hill"…. the line is very silent at the other end - he figures he has her attention. He has that of Nash too – her just having flopped in a seat. "Doesn't happen to have a particular fetish for meth, does he…or she?"

There's still silence at the other end. Eventually, Jones sighs: "What's going on over there?"

"Well," Sam starts – a little testily. "Three divisions have just spent a ridiculous amount of hours on building a case to get rid of it around here. And bring down Anton Hill".

"Wha.." Jones gasps. Sam hears some echoing- perhaps the clicks of her heels walking rapidly down a sterile hallway.

"Don't even," Sam snaps. Then bites in his cheek to remind himself to calm down. "Taskforces that are kept a _complete _secret from the _good_ guys never work". And he doesn't mean to be tetchy with her – he really doesn't, he's just feeling pretty livid about the whole damn thing.

He takes a couple of deep breaths; continues on "Sorry, Jones. Sorry. That's…this is not about you".

Jones clears her throat. "It's okay Sam, I get it – I really do. I advised Luke early on we should be at least giving some key areas the bare bones of things."

Sam looks at Nash, then informs Jones: "There's a bunch of us that have worked our ass up to get knowledge on this case. And we're not letting go".

"Sam…" Jones starts softly, guiltily…

"No," Sam states calmly. "Tell Callaghan if he wants our information, we get some 'in'. For all we know…for all he knows – we may have collected more information in a few short weeks than you guys have been able to get in the last 6 months". Sam knows that's unlikely, knows McNally and Collins would do a better job than that, but he's not about to have the work of Division 15 dismissed like small fry. Because. It's not. And Sam knows _that_ -pretty much more than he knows _anything_.

He knows he should be talking to Frank about this before shooting his mouth off, but something in him says he'll have some unwavering support. But, for his own peace of mind: "My partner Detective Nash, and I, will be discussing it with my boss within 2 minutes of hanging up from you. While I do that, you're going to tell Callaghan to get over here". And, like he means it's not negotiable: "We'll expect to see him before the next 24 hours is up".

They're met with some more silence at the end of the line, then – finally. "Okay, Sam. I'm heading back into his office now…" she says, like she wants to say more. Then before he has the chance to end the call: "Just…. don't let Luke know what other sort of message I've been giving you?"

Sam swallows hard. He knows he broke some rules by contacting her in the first place; knows Jones has had his back through all of the… Andy related stuff. "You've got nothing to worry about, Alana – not from me".

…...

Frank _is_ supportive of Sam's moves as it turns out; shakes his head and gives a mirthless laugh. "When are these people ever gonna learn that _nothing_ gets past our team. I'm surprised Callaghan didn't think this part out".

As they're walking out of Best's office, Nash shoulder bumps Sam – "guess this means we won't get to run our own undercover".

(Last night over pizza, they'd planned a whole damn sting. They were so absurdly happy with themselves they high fived at the end).

"Not this time, Nash. But. We're about to reel a big one all the way back in," Sam turns to her and grins.


	11. These Days of Dust

A/N: Okay, well this chapter is a little... verbose. I promise moving forward will be a little lighter on. (Bear in mind that this fic isn't action in genre, and I'm still very new at all this...so bear with me on the clunkiness?) The next couple of chapters are also sketched out, but I have a stupid workload over the next few weeks so my updates may not be quite as quick. I wanted to get this one up now though, so...in the meantime thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue (nor anything to do with Mumford and Sons)**

* * *

Sam doesn't have any nails to bite. Not that he's ever had that particular habit – but - he's clean out of gum this morning and needs to get his teeth into _something_. This morning, grinding a molar with the back of his thumbnail will just have to do. He's perched against Frank's desk, staring into space. His other arm is crossed tightly against his chest. The reason for his posture being that of a nerve ball: in the past twelve hours or so, he's taken to doubting himself.

...

Nash and Frank re-enter the room with some piping hot coffee; Traci hands Sam one of the ones in her hands and raises an eyebrow or two. "Everything okay, Swarek?" asks Best, putting his own cup down as he takes a seat.

"You skipped asking me how I knew our case might be connected to Project Dakota," Sam says, figuring some transparency is in order here.

Frank looks out the windows at nothing at all. Eventually, he nods his head. His expression is pretty unreadable; he's always been reasonable and trusting of Sam – despite some of the crappy jumps in the deep end that Sam is liable to.

"Figured you had some sort of knowledge of the case," Frank states, taking a sip of his coffee then finally looking up at Sam. "When you came to me, I trusted any connection you _thought_ there might be was important enough".

Sam runs his teeth hard across his bottom lip. He needs to be careful here, knows the damage that could be done if he shoots his mouth off to Callaghan…or anyone. "It's more gut instinct than anything, Frank". He takes a seat opposite the boss; Nash plonks herself in the one next to Sam. "I don't have anything specific – the info I got was just that _whoever_ Dakota was focusing on was _some_ sort of connection to Hill".

In fact, the more Sam thinks about this, the more he thinks the two cases could be completely unrelated. He really could have goosed this up. He says as much; confesses to Frank that maybe he just _wants _them to be connected. He feels like punching himself right now, wonders whether his desire to end Anton Hill's career…and his desire to see Andy again, have coloured or clouded his judgement in more ways than one.

Frank chews at his own lip, pondering before telling Sam and Nash quietly; "There's only one way to find out. Callaghan will be here in 15 minutes…just…follow my lead".

….

By the time Luke knocks on the door, Frank's filled them in on his strategy and Sam's feeling just a little bit better about the whole damn thing.

Callaghan knocks once and opens the door, nods at them all before moving right in. There is an exchange of pleasantries – mainly between Luke and Frank. By the time everyone is re-seated, the four of them are dotted likes points in a diamond; Callaghan between Frank and Nash, Sam to his direct south.

"One of my ops said I should get over here quick smart; said you might have some information that could be a key to my case?" Callaghan has a stony face as he says it, like maybe he's still in the dark.

Sam lets out a breath on the inside, thanks Jones silently for being so astute. (On a number of matters he owes that woman a drink). He catches eye contact with Luke, though – his thoughts interrupted when Callaghan directs his next question to Sam: "The case you guys are working on. What makes you think it's got _anything _to do with us?" The two men exchange pretty icy stares.

Frank interrupts, not taking a chance to give any spare seconds where Sam might say something he regrets. "We're not actually sure there is a link, Callaghan". He waits until he's got Luke's full attention before proceeding. "We do however, want to fill you in on _our_ case. Professional courtesy. Make sure there is _no_ connection before we set up our sting". Sam realizes now why Best has this job – he's definitely diplomatic, and has a cool head. "I'd hate to think we bump into anything that might jeopardise what you guys are doing – you know how these things can be?" And it may be passive aggressive, but Frank is coming off as nothing but friendly and professional.

Luke grins at them all, interested – if nothing else. "What have you got?"

…..

For the next half hour Nash and Sam present Callaghan with the facts of the Crystal Meth case. They walk him through everything that's been happening across the three divisions involved. They show him their web of dealers and how they think all of the evidence points to its centre being Hill.

At the end of it all Callaghan sighs, and speaks cautiously, "right". He gives an imperceptible nod of his head. "Looks like you've all done some great work here…." then turns directly to Sam: "but _we're_ not after Hill".

Sam feels like he's being tested. Without a doubt, Callaghan is dipping a toe in the waters; trying to get to the bottom of why Sam might have jumped the gun to think one and one makes three. By the expression on Callaghan's face though, Sam knows there are some things he's not prepared to say – until after he bleeds 15's leads bone dry.

"I get that you've probably got bigger fish to fry, Callaghan," Sam says, trying his hardest to bite down the snark. He takes some time to remind himself of how Frank thought they should play this game; decides to slow his roll. "The thing is… Hill's got a guy running errands all across Toronto …. and then some". Sam decides on hedging his bets, goes for staring down Callaghan with his last little bit:

"If Project Dakota has got _anything_ to do with drug trafficking into the city… we just thought, maybe…you could've come across _that_ guy".

Nash picks up where Sam leaves off; informs Luke that the messenger is doing the hard yards for Hill. It's obvious he's hooked into _someone _even bigger and better; _someone _with manufacturing - as well as trafficking - capabilities. She emphasizes Sam's point well by finishing up with a "we wouldn't want to take this guy out in _our_ sting if he was important to _you_."

And, _bingo._

Sam was watching Callaghan through Nash's speech – saw his ears perk right the heck up on the manufacturing and messenger side of things. If Sam looked closer, he's pretty sure he'd see a bead of sweat run down Callaghan's pretty blonde head.

Callaghan looks between the three of them, plants his eyes on Sam. "How much you know about the manufacture?"

Sam shakes his head. "Nothing. That's where we thought you guys might've come in. But – sounds like maybe we got our wires crossed on that". And, seriously. Sam feels like a three year old doing it, he's really got to cut this crap and grow up some more; but for good measure and some payback – he runs with shooting Callaghan a not so friendly smirk.

Callaghan shakes his head and smirks right the hell on back. "Alright, Sammy," and possibly because Luke decided to be 30 shades more professional since the penny has dropped: "Tell me more about this messenger."

Sam lets out a breath and decides to be a grown up policeman again; motions for Traci to pass over a file. "Ricky Williams," Sam says pointing at a photo that's now on Frank's desk. "Well. All fingers point to him anyway. Been a chronie of Anton's for a while – working his way up the ranks," Sam pauses – wondering how much to give Callaghan; decides for everyone's sake it's best to give it all. Sam ends his description by letting Luke know: "I …ah…I was his wingman last time I was trying to bring down Hill. He's trigger happy and real loyal to Anton. Would _seriously_ hurt anyone that he thought might get in their way".

Callaghan looks through the file, forehead screwed up – losing his battle with the neutral face. After a while, he nods his head. "Thanks for this…if you're right on the link, sounds like Williams_ could _be an option to get us the rest of the way in to who we want".

Sam's eyes narrow. He knows that Callaghan knows it's a more than likely link. "Woah, woah, woah. We're not _just_ giving you this for you to bring down whoever it is that you're after," and for the first time in a while, Sam feels some bile in his throat. He looks for support from Nash and Best – who at this point in time are just standing with their own mouths halfway to right open and their eyebrows raised high.

"C'mon Luke…" Nash interjects. "You're guy might be the biggest source and trafficker on the planet…but we need Hill…," turns out this is the first time ever Sam has seen Nash completely flustered too.

Frank puts his hands up to shoosh the room – even though by that point nobody is saying too much. He turns to Sam, quietly urging him with a simple "just – give us _all_ a reminder about Hill."

Sam stands there for a good twenty seconds before something inside his gut…just clicks.

He grabs a highlighter off Frank's desk and strides to the divisional map of Toronto that takes pride of place on the wall. Sam draws a fluoro pink border around the three divisions that have been working the Hill case. He then proceeds to colour inside the lines, dares not to look at the mortified face of Frank –

The next 10 minutes has Sam making an impassioned speech about the population of those blocks -the facts, the figures, and the _personal stories;_ the lives he knows of that have been affected by Hill. He then takes the green highlighter off Frank's desk – (and, seriously – how many colours does a staff sergeant need?) – to sketch in some question marks and arrows around the rest of the city; historical rumours and gossip of Hill's other links.

Sam finishes with a plea to Callaghan, "We're not trying to _stop_ you from doing your operation. I get that you've probably got nearly enough by now anyway to wrap your case"-

Sam sure hopes so anyway, he can't handle the thought of not even recognising Andy by the time she gets back… Still, Sam's motives are not entirely selfish. If there is any way that Project Dakota can help bring down Hill at the same time…

Well. He's happy to keep pleading, even if it is to Callaghan:

"We _want_ you to get your guy. We are right behind…_all_ of you on that. But. He's only _one _source for people like Hill. You get him, and back here we still have our problem; Anton will turn to another and another and another."

Sam pauses for a while, takes a couple of breaths. Remembers that Andy loved Luke, knows there has to be some fucking streak of humanity in the guy somewhere. He also knows Callaghan is a pretty good cop -

"How many years can we let him go on ruining lives?" Sam asks, looking straight into Callaghan's eyes.

When Luke looks down at the ground, Sam tries one final thing: "Just…trust me on this…You get to Hill…my guess is you'll get right in the middle of whatever you want. Work with us … even just a little…and I'm convinced we can get _both_ of our guys."

….

It turns out that Sam had Luke convinced in the early part of his speech. Callaghan nodding his head at the end and scratching at the scruff on his face.

By the time everyone has refilled their coffee cups, Callaghan has given them the basic outline of Project Dakota and Victor Barlow, the man they believe is behind one of the largest manufacturing and trafficking operations that this region has ever seen.

As it stood Dakota _was_ close to a breakthrough; McNally and Collins right on the cusp – hooked right into a few traffickers that had a similar reputation to Hill.

The one thing they were missing was the liaison; the messenger that gets all the way in…then disseminates the essentials throughout the whole network. Based on Sam's description, Callaghan is confessing now to speculating that Ricky Williams may be _that _guy; as in – he's more than just the legman for Hill.

The contacts that McNally and Collins were in thick with were vague on details about who gave them key dates and information. They've been able to come back with different names and slightly different descriptions for possible contenders of the messenger role, but none have made enough sense. Callaghan says they're pretty sure this is because Barlow's other buyers genuinely don't _know_ – the details of every contact that Barlow has is carefully compartmentalized; he doesn't want anyone he sells to, to get too chummy with anyone _else_ in the network. For all anyone knows, if it is Williams that is the messenger, he could be using aliases and subtle disguises when he meets with any of them. The only ones who know his real identity might be Barlow and Hill.

…..

Callaghan informs Frank that he _can't_ bring Division 15 into the inner circle but he'll be brief them independently once he's fed the new information back to base.

Callaghan appears to make some quick decisions in his head as he speaks, informs the three in front of him; "The aim will be for Project Dakota to now focus on setting up a UC relationship with Williams, and use him as the 'in' to Barlow…get actual face to face contact ….. and some stuff on tape."

Sam swallows hard thinking of Andy in any sort of situation with these types of guys – she's obviously handled it up to date, but he wants to make sure she stays alive. He remembers the weeks after she blew his cover way back when he first met her; then remembers very clearly the first time she saved his ass –

_Shit._

"Callaghan. Just -" Sam takes a few goes to clear his throat. "Careful how you use McNally, yeah?" And so as to clarify - "Ricky Williams _wasn't_ in the room when it happened, but -." His mouth is seriously, seriously dry; "_Hill's_ seen her as a cop. At least once or twice."

Luke nods at Sam with a no nonsense, "got it."

…

It actually takes no time at all getting buddy buddy - with Williams that is.

Luke briefs Division 15 about a week or so later that McNally has been working a bar owned by one of the traffickers they've managed to get in thick with. When McNally was shown a photo, she recognised Williams face straight away, had asked about him previously without receiving the right kind of luck.

A few days after the photo, McNally spotted him again. This time she flirted a little…after revealing they had a number of mutual acquaintances, she popped into conversation that her 'brother' was doing some work in one of the warehouses Ricky knew; planted the seed that he was looking for more work….and maybe she was too.

According to Callaghan, Ricky has been frequenting the bar every night this week since. When he's not holed up in the corner on business meetings, he's over at the bar – chatting with her.

All in all, Sam's got his stomach clenching in time with his jaw when he thinks there's a chance in hell Williams would get his grotty hands on her. But, like Callaghan is reading his mind; "He hasn't put the hard word on her ….just yet." Then the jerk grins a little as he relays to Sam: "she told him she had a boyfriend in another city – was waiting to see if he'd come for her, if he ever sorted his shit out".

Sam snorts a little thought of it, hopes like anything that that's her sticking close to the truth. He thinks of the way she might've said it; all brassy and elongated pout. Does some more thinking of how every other asshole in the place might be looking at her –

Every bone in his body wants to go to that bar and hoist her into his arms, carry her out right the heck now. Still, he realizes they've both got a job to do - recalls her firm handshake and the number of times she's had _his_ ass on the mats; resigns himself to the fact she can handle herself…

….

It's about a week after that they hear McNally's managed to line up a job for Collins with Ricky Williams – helping to facilitate some go between of product between the warehouse and one of the other traffickers. It's unlikely Ricky will let him out of the car, but it's a definite show of some trust -

…..

A few days after _that_, Callaghan drops by the division to give them _the_ news.

Collins has heard that Barlow and Hill are actually meeting real soon face to face for some high-end transaction - a once every few months only kind of deal. The best part about is that Williams is in charge of security – he's liking Collins already, (probably figures the way to a woman's heart is through her brother); has already offered him the extra work.

Turns out the meet will take place at a warehouse in Division 15 – one that's evidently linked to the white whale himself.

Callaghan invites Frank and the team in as back-up for the bust; reminds them at the end of the briefing that _he_ is the boss. From what anyone can gather, the next few days are all systems _go_.

….

Two days after the last briefing, Sam finds himself _here_.

He's in the driver's seat of an unmarked car, opposite side and just down the road of a warehouse that's labelled as distributing laundry soaps of all things.

Nash is in the passenger seat looking through some binoculars occasionally. Not that there's anything to see – not really. Not that she would be able to see anything from where they are, even if she looked hard. Callaghan's got them over here for a reason – one step removed from the inner circle action, but just close enough. Instructions are that when Barlow, Williams, and Collins are safely inside, all unmarked cars will move closer in. Then they'll all wait for the signal; those assigned from Division 15 will follow the taskforce all the way _in_.

Collins thinks they won't let he or Williams into the room where the transaction takes place, but it doesn't matter anyway. He'd managed to find out details in advance; the team managed to bug the place through its light fixtures and vents under the guise of 'electrical work' just yesterday.

Andy managed to score the gig as Barlow's driver for today. However it happened, Sam will possibly never know… (although, he'll ask her about it if she gives him the chance). When they get there, she'll be going into the foyer area to keep tabs on one of Barlow's other henchmen… presumably well out of the sightline of Anton Hill.

They know Hill is already inside now; that happened a while ago – he pulled up inconspicuously with two of his minders in a 'company' van. Sam had one fleeting pang of desire to pull his gun then and there; bit down hard on the apple he was eating instead.

…..

Every now and then Callaghan and Jones talks the team through what has happened – or what is happening. Their van is hooked into everyone's wires, radios and frequencies; and it's the closest in.

Sam listens to the radio crackle now, hears Callaghan in that cool as a cucumber voice: "McNally and Collins - one minute out".

Sam's heart almost lurches clear through his chest.

….

Nash lets out a huff of breath, turns half her body to face Sam. "You ready for this?"

("How do you think things are _gonna_ pan out for you guys when Andy gets back?" she asked late one evening this week, feeding some leftover pizza crust to Boo –

Sam flicked an olive at her in response, and grinned. "I dunno. I have no idea," he explained - in a tone that failed at being nonchalant.

It's true that he'd still been skirting around verbalizing his hopes when it comes to McNally; he had no idea how to make it happen, only knows that he wants to walk it all through with the woman in question first. Still –

Sam assured Nash for the umpteenth time that he really, _really_ still loves Andy….)

Sam lifts an eyebrow and glances at Nash again now, works on calming himself down. He's not sure whether she's referring to the takedown here, or the concept of seeing Andy again - "What do you think?" he says a little too coolly.

She gives him some eyebrow back, "dunno. I'm thinkin' it could be a little…. scary?"

Sam runs his tongue over his teeth. He _is_ scared actually. His latest thoughts have turned to building up notions of Andy being completely wrapped up in UC work. He wouldn't blame her – what with the adrenalin and being able to be immersed in different lives. He's had the odd thought that he wished _he_ was living another life right now - even if it was a seedy, dingy one; him and that occasional urge he still has to escape.

Mostly though, this past 6 months he's come to realize he doesn't want to wear masks anymore. It's like some great burden is being lifted from his shoulders. The more that he has let people in, the more that they haven't rejected who he is…or what he's got going on his life… the more he feels a freedom to just be…himself…..?

The problem with the whole love for Andy thing though, is that he's still fucking terrified that it's just too late; whatever he reveals now, maybe she's figured out she just doesn't need or want.

He's pretty certain any rejection from her will completely wreck him.

He huffs to himself on that thought -

_Like he wrecked her._

(He realizes it now…how much she really _did_ love him back then. He never did quite get his head all the way around that).

"Pretty scared," he says in a low voice to Nash. "But what's done is done. No goin' back".

…

Right on cue, the car McNally is driving heads down the road. Sam has to squint his eyes to make out the shapes of her and her three passengers.

She pulls up just askew of the warehouse loading dock – close but not too close to the front entry – like their entry and exit could go either way.

He can hear Luke mumbling something over the radio, but right now it sounds like another language to Sam.

Sam's holding his breath as he sees everyone get out of the car; figures enough eyes are on all other parties, so he keeps his on Andy. He swallows a few times as he watches her follow Barlow, Williams and Collins – she's a few steps behind.

"Jeez. She looks a bit a skinny on it," pops out of Nash's mouth real quiet. She's got the binoculars in front of her again. "Other than that, she looks okay."

Sam's feeling a bit dizzy at this point, so he decides it might be a good time to put some effort into breathing again. He snatches at the binoculars and peers in; rakes his eyes up and down McNally's simple jean and t-shirt clad form. The weight loss is an obvious thing, but in all honesty Sam could care less – she's always …_beautiful_ is the thing. Still –

He wracks his brain wondering what every day of her life has been like this past 6 months; feels his stomach swoop at the thought of what it might take for them to navigate that particular gap.

Nash snatches the binoculars back, bringing Sam's attention to the here and now. "Enough perving, Swarek. We're on the job."

…

They've been inside for a _while_ before everyone finally gets further instruction from Callaghan:

"All units approach with caution."

Turns out there were some pleasantries being exchanged with some of Hill's men in the foyer before Barlow, Williams and Collins made their way to the room where Anton is. Sam closes his eyes for a few seconds – tells God that if he exists he won't let anyone hurt Andy – that he'd willingly _go_ instead.

He drives to the spot they've been allocated to, parks behind one of the taskforce cars. None of the unis are anywhere in the vicinity yet; deliberately kept on the down-low until the final call is made.

For the next minute or so neither Nash nor Sam make a peep. They listen closely to Callaghan's simplistic narration of what's happening between Barlow and Hill; there's one single sentence where he mutters, "we're almost there."

Some minute or so after that, it's actually Jones that gives the signal, and Sam's pretty sure it's the most eloquent and fantastic statement he's ever heard:

"That's just dust".

…..

The takedown happens quickly. Callaghan's unit are smooth and well-rehearsed; Sam, Nash and a few other plain clothes following them in closely, clearing the warehouse offshoots and corridors that were mapped out in detail just a few days ago.

Sam could swear blind that he spots the blur of a brown ponytail as they move through the foyer; he tamps down a smile, desperately wishing he could take chase.

By the time Sam gets in the room of the big transaction, Barlow, Williams, Collins and a few other men are under arrest. One of the members of the taskforce has a gun pointed at Hill – Sam's not sure if there's a hiccup, so he points his too. The op flicks his head, motioning to Sam; "Callaghan said this collar's yours".

Sam blinks a few times before he manages the dozen or steps it takes to get to Hill. Sam makes a mental note that he probably owes Callaghan a beer as well, although – he's pretty sure Luke owes him one too.

As Sam puts the cuffs on, Anton sneers, "long time, no see Officer Swarek." Then as Sam shoves at him, "for your sake, you'll need this time to count."

Sam shoves him again. "It's Detective now, Hill. And you can be rest assured that we sure as hell will."

…..

It's when Sam's outside leading Hill to the car that he spots her again.

Shaw's got her cuffed, gently nudging her along.

He wants so badly to go to her, to do something….

He pushes Hill's head down to get him in the car, slams the door a little harder than is necessary. He stands there for the next few minutes under the guise of waiting for Nash. It's McNally he's keeping a watch on though as she gets led to a squad car.

Sam figures she must feel his eyes on her, or something –

She turns and spots him. Her unreadable expression reminds him of waterboarding and farmhouses, cracked ribs and broken wrists, from what feels now like an eternity ago.

He keeps looking at her though, straight in the eye; tries to send some sort of telepathic hug for chrissake…. Tries to send a signal that he's _with_ her, he's here for her, he loves her, he's still prepared to do _everything_ –

Eventually her eyes flicker down as she hops in the car, Ollie slamming at that door too.

Ollie sends a wave to Sam.

Shaw keeps his face dead straight as he calls out to Sam; "This one tried to get away." He points his finger toward McNally through the glass. "Can you believe it?" And then, with one hand on his hip and the other jangling at his keys. "But. You know. I ain't the fastest runner. Deep down, I'm pretty sure she wanted to be caught". Ollie hitches his thumb with the keys over a shoulder. "Sure looked like she was waiting for someone when she tripped back there".

Sam glances back to the car window again, in time to see McNally looking back at him – that same, unreadable look.

But, he swears. He just …swears –

He spots the tiniest, tiniest curl upward at the right side of her lips.


	12. So Long, Long Between Mirages

AN: I know I said it wouldn't be a quick update, but then this happened. (A sleepless night will do that for you!) The next one may not be sooooo quick...but the next few are sketched at least, so you never know.

Thanks again for your support and reviews!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue (or anything at all to do with The Church).**

* * *

It takes hours.

Hours and hours and hours.

So many hours, Sam is close to driven insane.

….

It takes an _eternity_ to drive back to 15.

Nash pops at some gum as they get stuck in traffic, chewing hard every so often as she peers into the rear-view mirror – keeping her eyes on Anton Hill. Once in a while she glances sideways at Sam.

None of them say a single freaking word; _not at all._

Sam chatters his teeth as he takes a peep at his watch. (Not that the time means anything in itself). He's given up on gum; having accidentally swallowed the last two pieces that Nash gave him. For what it's worth, he's got _his_ eyes fixed on the side mirror; right now he could care less about Hill.

They lost site of the Shepstein cruiser some time ago. Sam wonders now whether they are even going to bother keeping up the act by taking McNally to 15, or whether they'll go direct to Taskforce HQ.

Sam considers radioing to Shaw, but obviously doesn't want to give the game away, given who he and Nash have got listening in. He eventually decides on chancing his _somethings_ anyway –

"Anyone call in any 10 fifty's on Parliament," Sam radios out casually. "1505. You guys got anything we need to know about?"

"10 four, buddy," Ollie reports back cheerily. "All clear here," and obviously because he doesn't want to put Sam through any more yanking of chains: "We're around Jarvis though, grabbing some hotdogs to go."

Sam and Nash roll their eyes in unison.

So.

Sounds like Sam won't be seeing McNally at 15 any moment soon.

He puts through one final message to Ollie, on a wing and a prayer that Andy's definitely listening in:

"Grab some icecreams while you're at it; I'll give you some cash later – consider it my shout".

It's Epstein's voice he hears in response. A_ woot_ and; "You're the best, Swarek. The _best_."

….

It takes_ forever_ in booking.

Diaz and Cruz all thingy that they weren't there for the bust.

That -

And the seemingly simultaneous crime wave that was hitting the rest of the division while it was on; a dozen or so teenagers busting out with some pranks.

Sometime during all the waiting Sam fires off a text to Shaw – _everyone okay over there?_

He gets the response just moments later: _icecreams went down a treat, probably gonna need it – sounds like she'll be in for a long night._

Seconds after that Sam gets another one: _ But Epstein and I will see you soon and pass on a kiss x_

Sam lets out a surprised cough.

Eventually, Nash rolls on up to Diaz, her eyebrows raised high; "You still want me to feed you tips on the finer points of child development?" She asks in the most serious of her interrogative tones, but Sam also notices the question mark is rounded out with a grin and a flutter of her eyes.

Sam feels a kind of awkward flush swoop through his stomach at considering whether Nash is ready to move on. It's not that Sam doesn't want her to be happy; god he really, really _does_. It's just….

Like some sort of final evidence of the fact that Jerry is _gone_.

He eyes Diaz, considering – then turns and catches Cruz watching Sam back.

Sam quirks an eyebrow at her and clears his throat, gets some no-nonsense in his voice as he thinks about other places he could be waiting for things to go down:

"Yeah, let's move along here."

…

It takes the _longest_ interview in history that Sam's ever seen.

They have to be careful with it, Sam knows they do; all these crossovers and linkages that may play a part in the wrap up of Project Dakota. Callaghan will have their backsides if they screw this up. He's pretty sure there's enough on tape to lay current charges, but Sam wants more than that -

Nash plays good cop, sits their politely with her warmest face shining at Hill while Sam flicks the evidence – bit by bit –right in Anton's face. When he's had enough of Hill's lawyer huffing and puffing about things he can't ask, and when he's over the stare that Anton's been giving for three hours straight, Sam excuses himself and smiles at Nash. "Just popping out to get us some coffee and donuts, be right back," he says to her, five types of faux _happy to be here all night_.

He practically sprints down the corridors to get the donuts though, gets back to the observation room in time to see Hill answering a few questions from Nash.

(Sam had a feeling Hill wouldn't be doing a whole lot of talking to _him_; if nothing else, just to keep testing Sam's nerve.

But. Quite frankly, Anton Hill is not where Sam's nerves are right now; with McNally just a heartbeat away he's had to work overtime to stay focused on delivering the interrogation in exactly the right way).

A few minutes of standing there - mentally cheering Nash on from the sidelines, Frank walks in. The boss pats him on the back - more a show of support than congratulations or that type of thing.

Sam gives a quick smile to the boss, says quietly but clearly: "Thanks. For everything."

Frank nods. "Home stretch now Sammy, bring it on in."

….

By the time Nash and Sam finish with Hill - they have obtained enough of everything including a couple of key confessions to put him away for a long time – the station is practically bare.

They sit in the D's office for a while; Nash rolling her neck, Sam rubbing at his temples before he hears his phone _ding_.

He reaches into his pocket with a faint pang of hope that it's a message from Andy.

(He'd have texted her…something…before...he doesn't know what….but until this moment, was more than sure she would still be in a debriefing with Callaghan; assumed she'd have to make it home in the first place to even be in possession of her own phone).

He's disappointed, but not surprised then that the message is from Shaw:

_Are you guys done yet? I'll let you off the hook for the icecreams but you owe me a beer._

Sam hears a couple of chirps out of Nash's phone too.

She groans a little, then laughs.

"Penny. Now. Celebrate." She snorts, mimicking Gail.

Sam shrugs, wondering what the problem is: "We could probably do with a little of that…?"

"I feel like I haven't seen Leo in for years," Nash lets out with a couple of long breaths.

Sam twitches a sympathetic smile to her. "Well. No doubt the wonder twins can keep Peck mildly amused until Collins gets back."

Nash opens her eyes and mouth wide, lets out a loud _ha! _and waggles her eyebrows at Sam.

"Mind out of the gutter," Sam smirks back.

"Anyways," Nash offers up – motioning to the door, "I think Collins might need to work overtime to revive the lovin' there."

Sam shrugs his shoulders again, tries to brush away dark thoughts that maybe something happened between Collins and Andy in the last 6 months.

When they get to her car, Sam waves Nash off – tells her they'll catch up to celebrate themselves in the next couple of days.

Sam blows out a foggy breath as he looks around the relatively dark and empty parking lot. He ambles slowly toward his truck, debating with himself whether he's too tired for a beer. He clicks at his keys from the usual distance out, does a double take when the alarm signals that it's already unlocked.

He looks over at it finally, notices the interior softly illuminated -

Sees Andy sitting in there.

He stands frozen in his spot for a good minute or so, just staring; even shakes his head a few times to make sure he's not hallucinating.

He tries desperately not to smile when he sees the window wind down. She holds up the keys, rattling. "I figured when you sent them, you wouldn't mind if I used them again," she's got a smile on her face as she says it but Sam thinks she looks battle-weary...and something else. "Besides. Thought it might be about time to return this," Andy says, holding aloft the tattered copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ that he'd sent via Jones all that time ago, along with the keys.

"Nah," Sam chokes out. "Happy for you to keep both," he continues on with a slightly louder voice from where he's standing - doing everything he can not to grin like a fool.

Finally he edges his way closer, probably in too much shock to break into a run. Not to mention the fact his feet feel like they're in concrete; six months of waiting for this moment that at least half of the time he never thought would come.

After forever he reaches the passenger side door, pops it open and gets a good look at her once and for all. He opens his mouth to say something, but it breaks into a smile. He stops himself again, his brain whirling around with the probability that she's just going to end things here and now; put him out of his misery and tell him how she's moved on with her life.

"You're back," he says so softly he barely hears it himself. He assumes Callaghan or a cab dropped her here, but god knows when; "You been waiting long?"

Andy grins a little back at him. (Up until now she'd had this look on her face like she thought he might shout). "Long enough," she says simply – looks into his eyes a little harder, like she's trying to get a read of his face.

Sam gives her a soft smile, nods his head.

"I, um. I wondered if you…," Andy starts, clearing her throat. She pushes some hair behind her ear and finishes with a tired and croaky, "might still want to buy me that drink?"

Sam just stands there, staring at her – closely inspecting her watery eyes and oily hair. He licks his lips a little, wants to tell her everything in this moment – but knows it…he…she…will need much more than that. "Is that – is that what you want?" Sam asks real careful. "If you're tired I could just take you home…"

"One drink," she murmurs. "…..Then take me home?" It comes out as a question from her now, this cautious game of chess they've got going on, making Sam bite at his lip.

Sam nods in fits and starts, moving around to the drivers' side. He gets his seatbelt on before he looks at her again. "Congratulations on the op, sounds like you were…awesome," he says, looking her straight in the eye.

She looks a little shocked and confused when he says it, eventually stutters out a "thanks".

By the expression on her face, Sam's wondering here if she's worried he's furious she was on it at all; thinks to himself not for the first time _god, have I been that much of a douche._

Anything else Sam wants to say about her achievement gets stuck internally, though. He figures he'll just have to start talking properly when he gets some more liquid to loosen his throat. He'd touch her cheek in the meantime in an effort to show her how sorry he still is about ….everything in _those_ last couple of months…. but he's too damn scared.

Finally, he snaps himself out of it; shoves the key in the ignition -

He throws the truck into gear and drives them to The Penny; barely holds himself together with the silence and her watching his face all the way.

(It's odd, having her right beside him without chewing off his ear. He wonders again if he'll be faced with the same Andy….comes to terms with the fact that may not be the case; after all, 6 months of _stuff_ and he's not quite the same Sam).

"Can't believe you let Ollie catch you," Sam says cutting through the silence just as they park.

She lets out a whiplash laugh that's big and almost familiar, "meh. Figured he could use a break."

Sam lets himself smile back on full throttle; shakes his head a little and agrees; "ain't that the truth."

….

When he opens the door to The Penny for her, a wave of whoops and hollers float on out.

Within minutes she's engulfed by the Rookies and Sam is convinced, three quarters of Division 15.

He smiles at her as she turns back to him; leans himself into the cluster with some help from Diaz and Epstein - enough to whisper in her ear "let them celebrate your achievements, I'll go get you that drink".

He takes a punt on what she might want, figures to heck with it and orders the best scotch off the shelf.

He looks around the bar. Between all the noise - he spots Peck and Collins over in the corner; Gail with her arms and eyebrows crossed. He scans the room further and assumes then that Shaw has already left.

Initially, Sam's going to make his way back over to McNally – pass over the drink so she can spend some time with her friends. But as he turns, he _feels_ her presence; right smack bang behind him with only a ghost of some space between them.

"I…you…" Sam stumbles out, running through his brain; deleting some of his more idiotic lines. He holds the glass out to her instead, clinks it with his own as he looks in her eyes "good to have you back." And it's not enough – even to his own ears. He's regretting like gangbusters that he didn't take Peck and Nash up on their offer last week to role-play some possible starts.

He trips over himself pulling a stool out for her, feels the tiniest bit better when she smiles with her teeth and looks just a little more relaxed. Sam decides maybe the _now_ is the best place to start -

Over the next day, weeks, months, (years and years), they can work through everything else.

"You wanna talk about how you kicked some ass today?" Sam asks, then shakes his head; figures that doesn't sound quite right. "How you've been kicking it for the last 6 months?"

McNally takes a swig of her drink, throws her head back just enough to have Sam looking at the stretch of her neck – be mesmerised as she swallows warm liquid all the way down. She's got her eyes closed as she does it, opens them only when she straightens her back – shifts herself to turn further in the direction of Sam. "Today," she says as she smiles small eventually – like she's read his mind. She looks into Sam's eyes, gets her volume just over all the background noise; "today's a good place to start."

Sam hears the slightest stutter as she says it, he figures he was right in thinking beyond today is just too much.

...

They sit there for a good hour; like they're in their own little world. Andy's got the barest tip of the jean on her knee touched on his thigh. It's nothing really – except it is...the heat emanating from her is like a current through him with the momentum of a tidal wave.

...

He's bought her a couple of other drinks while she's been relaying the story; her telling of how today has only been the fourth time in the op when she's been ridiculously afraid. A lot of what she says Sam can relate to; that big lead-up in such a short time and the overwhelming thrill of the bust. "A couple of moments today Sam...when they were in that room...Barlow's hench looking at me like I was some piece of meat...I didn't think I'd hold it together..." she's rambles, rabbit fast between the times she slows right down. "But I did, Sam. I did," she says pleased, popping a chip in her mouth.

(He offered to get her food before they walked in the door, but she shook her head at him explaining Callaghan had kept them fuelled up with take-out Chinese).

"You always do," he says with a smile – can't help himself but put his hand on the back of her shoulder and rub; pulls it off like a hot iron when he feels her nerves twitch.

...

Epstein plants himself between them at one point and asks Andy if she's coming back to work straight away.

Sam takes the opportunity to hitch a thumb over his shoulder; "I just got to use the bathroom. Be right back."

He splashes his face with cool water when he gets inside, looks in the mirror and reminds himself: _one moment at a time._

...

When he eventually does swing the door open to get back out there, Andy's leaning against the wall opposite. His brain jogs around in a circle querying whether she's waiting for him, or –

_Oomph._

He didn't have to spend too much time thinking about what she might be doing there; she's got him pushed up against the wall with her skinny, muscly body pinning him in. Her hot mouth was on his even before he had the chance to express an _oof_ of surprise. The way she's climbing him is spurring on flashbacks of blackouts, redux first kisses and that type of thing...

Sam can't help but get his hands on her though; he wraps one around at the edge of her waist, and the other near her chin.

It's the _way_ she's kissing that's got him worried; hard and desperate but slightly disconnected, pushing at all of the buttons she thinks might make her...reconnect. Yeah –

Sam understands _that_ feeling too; the feeling of uncertainty of what's real or not anymore. An attempt to find something familiar before the adrenalin is gone.

More than anything he wants to kiss her back – properly; check her body over slowly and carefully for any damage that might have been done. But, he also knows that this isn't how they need to start again; knows there's a lot of forgiving and learning and talking and listening that needs to be done.

"Andy, Andy, Andy," Sam breaks from her, pushing at her hip gently so she's back on solid ground. "Wait, wait, wait," he whispers hoarsely to her, still holding her face.

"Sorry..." she cuts him off, fingers twitching on his chest. "Sam, shit... sorry, I..." she starts shaking her head – looks straight at him like she's done something wrong.

Sam hears footsteps behind them, instinctively moves his body to conceal McNally some more. He just wants – really wants – for her to be able to ease her way back into whatever life she wants back here without a thousand pairs of eyes on her like she's a damn guineapig.

"Hey Sam," comes from whose ever footsteps they were. He's pretty sure it's the voice of Cruz, even though he's never heard her tipsy before. He doesn't bother acknowledging her, lets the door to the ladies room creak open and close before he puts a hand gently back on McNally's face.

"Andy," Sam whispers so, so quiet to her. "Andy. Sweetheart. S'okay. I get it," bumps his nose to hers and lets it still there until he feels her breathing calm down. "I really, really do."

She pulls back from him a little and licks at her lips; puts her fingers on his chin and rubs away some gloss she maybe left there. Her back thuds against the wall, her head following that.

Sam thinks again about how worn out she looks, how dead exhausted she must _be_. (She's been running on pure adrenalin – fuelled by the alcohol this past hour or so - is the other problem with all of this).

Andy reaches a hand out to him eventually.

Sam takes it and wraps it in his; tugs. "Let me take you home," he says letting his voice go warm and liquid soft.

...

She falls asleep in the truck on the drive; Sam wishing he had a pillow to prop under her head.

As it is, she's mashed up against the window, all her hair in her face. He can't stop himself from smiling every thirty seconds; between more anxious thoughts of how _surreal_ this situation is.

A couple of blocks from her condo when Sam's stopped at a red, she pops her head up – sits boltright all of a sudden like she's remembered her father's birthday again. "You weren't in uniform today," she declares abruptly – just the other side of an accusing tone.

Sam has to bite his tongue until it's blue to stop his reflex response: _dreaming of me __**out**__ of uniform over there, McNally?_

He takes some time to swallow, gives a more considered response instead; "Decided I needed to make some changes. Made Detective a few months back."

"Oh my god, Sam. That's..." McNally shakes her pretty head, the way she does it reminds him of Boo. "Wow...congratulations..." She looks like she's trying to articulate some questions; form the right words – but there's not quite even the energy for that.

So, because he finally decides that a little joking might not be too unproductive right now, he sticks his tongue in his cheek and grins. "'Cause you weren't around...Figured I'd get in your best friends face and give _her_ a hard time."

Andy lets her hand fly out to give him a playful whack on the shoulder; she giggles a little more and then falls back to sleep.

...

When he finally pulls up in her street, he has to sit there for a couple of minutes deciding what to do.

She's still out like a light.

He'd carry her without an issue –

But then again; thinks maybe that's not the best idea.

Sam settles eventually with moving around to the passenger side, opens the door and gently shakes her shoulder.

Andy looks up in a half a stupor; Sam grins in response to the way she's starting to look a little more like herself. She rubs at her eyes and lets out a yawn – near takes Sam out with the way her arm stretches into his space. "I'm home?" she asks through it, still open mouthed.

"You are," Sam confirms for her quietly, then looks up to the stars.

_It's a beautiful night,_ Sam thinks. _A beautiful night._

...

He walks her up to her door, watches on as she opens up and pokes her head in.

"Ugh," Andy groans, swiping a hand in front of her nose.

"The aroma of disused apartments," Sam states in sympathy. "I remember it well."

When Andy gets the light on, she turns to him with a bite of her lip. "Um," she comes out with nervously. "Thanks for the ride..."

"Anytime, Andy," Sam says simply, trying to calm her nerves by just looking into her eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "You...uh...you gonna be okay here by yourself? You need anything?"

"No. I'm good. I'll crash straight away." Andy stumbles along still in her nervous pitch, cocking her head, "guess I need some rest before I start processing everything?" Her question comes out a mixture of things; an assurance to Sam that they'll talk again soon, but also looking to him for affirmation that sleep actually _is_ the best tonic for whatever's going on with her now.

"Rest for a day ...or a month if you feel like it," Sam nods in support. "You got some time off?"

"Yeah. Yeah." She nods her head back. "Couple of weeks if I want it, but I think I'll just take one."

Sam smiles at her, can't help but roll his eyes just a smidgen. "We all want you back ASAP... just...take it easy, okay?"

She smiles back at him. They stand there just staring at one another for an absurdly long minute.

Then. He can't handle it anymore.

He takes a small step forward, wraps his arms around her and nestles her into an embrace. He puts his face into her hair and gets his mouth against her ear, speaks very softly as he holds her tight: "I missed you." And because he's finding it hard to let go he whispers: "So much."

Her own grip is monkey tight on him – clammy hands that rolled up his back to clutch at the back of his shoulders. She hides her face in his neck. Sam's pretty sure he feels a single trickle of a tear. "I missed you, too," she murmers into the most sensitive part of his skin - right near the pulse in that general zone.

...

They separate after a long sequence of slow steady breaths. He's not sure who pulled away first, but it might've been him.

He leans in and lets a kiss linger just off her lips, "'Night, Andy."

She comes the extra two millimetres to take it from him; pulls away shortly after and lets out a small sigh. "'Night."

He turns back one last time as he gets down a few of the steps. She's leaning against the doorjamb; following him with her eyes. She gives him a small wave as he catches her look.

He manages to croak out a simple "sleep well."

...

The drive home is long and quiet. Sam can't bring himself to think about anything right now, just spends the whole way wishing he was back there with her.

...

Boo's curled up on Sam's bed when he gets home.

"Sorry, buddy." Sam whispers, deciding to go and source an extra large bone or two as an apology in the morning. "Andy's back," Sam explains by way of excuse as he pets at the dogs head, smiles as he's met with a pair of soft brown eyes.

...

As he gets into bed, he notices the screen of his phone light up; spends the next half hour until he falls asleep reading Andy's message over and over again:

_I really, really did._


	13. This New Sun

A/N: Okay! I'm not going to speculate as to when the _next_ chapter might be up, because I'm sick of looking like a liar :) For those of you wondering, there are quite a few chapters to go - this crazy pair still needs a whole lot of work yet!

Anyway, _this_ chapter is up speedier than initially thought as a way of saying a special thanks to; rbfan624, MumaluvsRB, Roseandbears, SMchick, Lissa13, jh126, kmart92, linda p, dcj, RBraquel, Tiger, KHA31, Augustus Snodgrass, WenEdg, and the guest who all left lovely reviews the last couple of chapters. It's also a continued thanks to enits3 and balladofbliss for their various contributions in the life of this fic!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue etc etc (just the following words!)**

* * *

Sam's up and about early the next morning.

Really early.

All things considered, he slept pretty well last night, but he woke up with a start – some dream he couldn't (or wouldn't want to) remember.

He decides an early morning run is in order, gets Boo moving – figuring the dog could use some _shake it out_ too.

They only go for a short and slow trot really, Sam mindful of the Boo's best doggy pace. He doesn't mind anyway, it's more for the sake of breathing in some fresh morning air. It's crisp but sunny, and successfully reminds him of those infrequent days where he forgets that he has a care in the world.

By the time they get back, Boo's pretty pooped; the dog plops himself down in a sun spot after snorting half a bowl of water and turning his nose at some food.

Sam's got a hand on his hip as he watches the dog – raises his eyebrow and mumbles petulantly "well, you're just gonna have to wait for the bone."

Boo puts his head down and groans back.

Sam swigs his own water - then has an idea.

...

He showers quickly - puts himself together in double speed so he's ready for work.

...

Sam's standing outside Andy's door less than 20 minutes later; coffees in one hand, extra buttery croissants in the other... and a local newspaper tucked under his arm.

(He stopped himself short of picking up one of her girlie magazines – he's going to have to work up some extra courage before he gets seen purchasing something with the phrase _love him or leave him _on the front).

He's nervous as all hell – wants, but doesn't want – to knock on her door.

All sorts of things are running through his brain; he doesn't want to wake her – after all, she needs the sleep. Aside that, he doesn't want her to think he's being too….um…._presumptuous?_

Sure, last night clarified the fact that they had both missed one another – but Sam's far from being stupid enough to figure that's all that counts. Also, in less than an hour he really _does_ have to be at work; even that's pushing it to result in him being late. _But._ He doesn't want her thinking this is a token effort; his being around for breakfast, yes, but still having to dash and run.

Eventually, he stops thinking. Decides to himself that if she doesn't answer the door, he'll drive onward to work - give the food to Ollie and the extra coffee to Nash.

So…

Sam takes one gigantic breath in -

And then knocks.

...

He doesn't have to debate knocking for a second time.

McNally swings open the door without asking who it is.

She's a sight for ...

Well.

Sam.

She's a sight for _him_, Sam thinks.

The bedhead is more intense than usual – all that wild, silky hair sticking up all over the place. Her big brown eyes are squinty, and a few pink pillow creases line her pretty, sleepy face.

She didn't bother with a robe to answer the door either; just stands there in front of him with a skinny white singlet and some tiny boy shorts. Her general expression suggests that he _did_ wake her up.

Sam rakes his eyes over her quite a few times before swallowing hard and then chancing a cheeky grin; "You always greet everyone lookin' like that?"

She sticks a bony finger out and then points her arm in the direction of the windows; yawns big. "Saw your truck." She manages a half grin to inform him. "Figured if it_ wasn't_ you, your stalkerish behaviour would help me bring down whoever else might've decided to visit this hour of the day."

Sam's heart and stomach do a weird trippy thing – it's like they're comrades in arms. His breath catches as his mind flashes with images of needles and knives. He can't help it – his head knows this is a light moment, but it does nothing to stop the lump that is forming hard in his throat.

She must notice the change in his face - her own expression turns into a frown.

He rearranges himself quickly. He _knows_ they're going to have to address all of ...this..._soon_, but he really cannot do it right now.

He flashes his teeth at her and sucks in a dimple for extra effect; "Yeah. Well," he teases all big and cheery, holding up the loot in his hands. "You might find what I got here is worth the inconvenience you' feel right now".

Andy grumbles a little at him, but it's with a cheesy grin. She hitches a thumb over her shoulder, and motions like a traffic cop with the other hand.

Sam puts the coffees and pastries on the kitchen bench, pulls out a couple of plates and serviettes. He turns around to see her watching him go about the familiar motions; her eyes now open wide, inspecting every single move he makes.

He steps away from the bench like it's just been responsible for sticking some barbed wire in his leg. "Sorry, I..."

"No. No. No," Andy shakes her head fiercely, interrupting. "S'okay." She moves with a little purpose over to the bench and plonks herself on a stool; pats a hand on the other one as a gesture to get him to sit down.

He moves around the bench cautiously, dragging the plates and cups as he goes. When he's finally seated and has taken his first sip of caffeine, he offers up an explanation of why he's here. "I thought maybe your cupboards would be relatively bare."

Andy's got a mouth full of pastry as she agrees, pulling a mortified expression to inform him "Jones stocked it with bran." She keeps her nose screwed up to whisper like it'll have to stay a secret between them "I think it was meant for Nick."

"That is..." Sam ponders, taking a bite of his own croissant. "A terrible mistake."

She giggles uncontrollably, does a couple of double takes at him as she tries to get her mouth on the coffee cup.

Her fits give Sam the chance to smile back at her, mask the pang in his heart about all the little things that Andy and Collins must know about one another now. He pulls his eyes off her eventually, inspects the pastry that's in his own hand. Sam strikes this up to yet _another_ thing they'll have to talk about.

"You sleep okay?" Sam asks, like he's enquiring after her everyday health; a quick and easy change of topic that couldn't possibly look out of place.

"Hm, sorta," Andy responds, a deeper look on her face than what Sam had hoped. "Like a log for a few hours," she continues, still thinking it out. "Then on and off – all over the place."

"Bad dreams?" Sam chances, but really hopes not. He's managing eye contact with her again finally, unsure how long it can last.

"Not really," Andy crinkles her brow, "more like: my bed felt...I dunno...strange?" She looks at him again like she's checking; like she figures he knows what that means.

Sam nods his head. He does know what she means; happened to him any time he was gone for more than three months. "_Should_ get better," he tells her – without daring to assume they'd ever manage any situation the same.

Sam watches as Andy proceeds to take an insanely long suck of the coffee; he hopes it's not because it's too cold.

"Oh my god. Sam," she sighs as she comes up for air. "This is, like. AMAZING." And then, as she knocks her cup against his in a cheers; "Thankyou _so _much."

"You," he says, sliding over the newspaper toward her. "Are most welcome," Sam finishes off with a wink at her, walking over to rinse his plate in the sink and put his paper coffee cup in the bin. "I, ah...I'd stick around..." he looks over his shoulder to her nervously.

"Oh. Totally," Andy jumps up, nodding her head. "_Some_ of us have to work." She smiles big at him then, eyes him up and down; starts making some jazzy hand movements. Sam thinks it may be to indicate his attire. "By the way, this look..." she points out a little flustered, "you totally rock."

He's not entirely sure what's so great about a blue button down and black jeans, but – there you have it.

(She used to comment how good he looked in his uniform all the time too, so he guesses a number of things float her boat).

He looks back at her in a similar fashion that she's looking at him, swallows hard noticing the way a singlet strap has fallen down one of her shoulders. "Back at ya," he grins quick and gone.

They stare at one another a while longer, before he turns to go.

….

Andy follows him right to the door, hot on his tail.

He rotates slowly as he reaches it, not sure what he'll find himself up against.

It turns out she's wiping her buttery hands on the side of her shorts, and still_ staring_ at him.

He only just manages to prevent himself from blushing, considering whether he should ask her out to dinner here on the spot.

He decides against it, mainly because he doesn't want to overcrowd her – he suspects she still needs time to simply get acquainted with her own space. "Um." He leans in and gives her a quick kiss on the cheeks. "Talk to you soon, yeah?"

The look on Andy's face _then_ makes him want to pick her up and get her back against the kitchen bench. It's the way she bites that damn lip; one eyebrow poised high and a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Yeah," she replies quietly, working her way into a smile.

...

Sam'd take his tie off – _if _he had one on, that is.

He feels himself burning up to about a thousand degrees on the ride to the station; even with the damn windows wound down.

He fumbles with his vibrating phone on the way into the station to find that he's received a text message from her:

_have a good day :P x_

...

Sam can actually feel the idiotic grin that is engulfing his face when he bumps into Shaw.

"_Whhoooooooooo_," Ollie gurgles, jostling Sam with his elbow. "Looky, looky, looky at the smile on that face. _Somebody_ looks like a dog with a treat," Sam gets his back slapped for his effort, Shaw leaving an arm around there as they make their way up the corridor. "I take it the _reuuuuuunion_ went well?"

All up, Sam thinks the look on Ollie's face is just damn creepy. He rearranges his own expression to something more droll. "I...we..." and then Sam completely does _not_ know what to say.

Shaw sucks his cheeks in, tries to keep a straight face. "That's what I thought." He says it pretty loud actually, right at the door of parade.

Every goddamn copper in the place turns to take a look at them. And, of _course_ –

They're running late.

"Gentleman." Frank coughs. "Nice of you to join us," Best lingers on the sentence, raising his eyebrows at them; "just as well yesterday was such a success."

Nash is at the edge of the bench they normally sit on; she holds a snigger under her hand.

...

Sam and Nash end up plugging away indoors all day getting stuff-all done; they have to skim back over files they were on before the whole Crystal Meth thing blew up.

"Please tell me this day has not been for nothing," Nash huffs, smacking her hands to her face.

"Well," Sam considers; "we most definitely have our _next_ priorities straight?" His head is a mess quite frankly – a full day of looking at messy details, intermingled with thoughts of Andy and what might be up next.

(Nash had dared to probe him gently at one point, over some take-out lunch: "How'd the celebrations go?"

Sam felt plain weird talking about McNally in the very present tense, "ahhh..." – like somehow it was going to be talking out of school. "Good...I think?" Sam breathed out, hoping Nash would catch on.

She looked over at him, took a while to stare. "As long as there's a start," she said bluntly - then let out a grin).

"You and Leo maybe wanna come to the park this arvo?" Sam suggests, all of a sudden with a need for more fresh air.

"Yeah! Why not." Nash grins big, "Can we ask Andy to come?"

And, well-

He'd thought of that already, actually. Feels pleased about at least few things being on the same page.

He smiles back at Nash.

"I spoke to her earlier," Traci explains cautiously, "you know…just to say welcome back."

Sam hoists his eyebrows up; it's not like he's got dibs on McNally – but he sort of feels intrigued about what _she_ might say about _him_ to Nash. If anything was said, Nash isn't letting on. Sam clears his throat as they eye one another; "I'll text her an invitation then?"

Nash just nods her head.

…..

_The Nashes and I are off to the park, wanna come? Someone I want you to meet_ –

Is what he sends her, deciding on that instead of a call in case she's asleep.

McNally must have her fingers on her phone though, as he gets one straight back:

_Absolutely! Details pls?_

"It's the park a block from Nash's place…" he says, when she answers his call. "But I can pick you up if you want?"

"No, all good," Andy says, sounding wide-awake. "My legs could do with the walk." She actually sounds tentative…a little reserved…."um…am I gonna like who I meet?"

Sam rolls his eyes at her, and then feels pretty bad. He's thinking she's thinking this meeting might be with, um. With someone _not_ Boo that's new in Sam's life.

"Well," he says gently, "he is pretty cute."

….

They meet at the park later after all the relevant collections have been done; Nash and Leo arriving at the exact same moment as Sam and Boo.

Nash scopes the park, declares when she's satisfied; "Andy's not here yet."

Sam takes Leo and Boo down the embankment into the open space where they start throwing a Frisbee; Boo between the two humans, managing to catch more in his mouth then they do in their hands.

After a while, Sam looks up; catches sight of Andy with Nash. They're standing side by side smiling and chatting – watching the Frisbee action as it unfolds.

McNally waves when she notices Sam has her eye; loops her arm through Traci's as they begin their walk down.

…

"Hey," Andy says all bright and bubbly to the males in the crowd. She takes Leo into a hug as he comes running at her, and swings him right up.

"Hey," Sam huffs out with a breath; giving her a smile.

Boo, who is far more well mannered generally, stretches his hind legs and rests both front paws on her hip.

She's swamped, actually; everyone right in her space – but she looks happy about it, some sparkles in her eyes as she glances at Sam.

"Andy, meet Boo," Sam gestures to the dog and back again, "Boo. Andy."

McNally breaks into a bigger grin if that were even possible, then like she's trying to quell the emotion – shuts her mouth like she's caught a fly, and purses her lips.

"I think it's fair to say he might like you," Sam states carefully, keeping a watch on the dog – all that slobbering tongue hanging out and big brown eyes fixated on Andy's grip on the kid.

"Or he just wants Leo back," Andy giggles, putting the boy down to pat the dog on the head.

She gets down on the ground, ruffles through the dogs fur and eventually starts a patting massage all the way from his head to his tail. "You're adorable, Boo," she laughs out – then kisses at his nose.

Boo gets his sloppy tongue on her cheek and gives her a big wet kiss right back.

Andy bursts into fits of giggles and lets herself get some more affection from the dog.

…..

Nash interjects the tomfoolery eventually, "C'mon Leo and Boo, lets go throw some more curly ones – I think Andy and Sam could do with a short break."

Sam kneels beside Andy to look on at the three of them at play.

"Got him not long after you left," Sam explains in his most neutral tone. "He just…." Sam stutters, feeling tetchy within himself; "seemed like a good place to start." It doesn't even sum it up really, but he hopes Andy gets the drift.

She looks up at him as he says it, stays silent for a while.

Andy bites her lip as she continues a watch on Sam's face. "Does he have other tricks?" she asks so, so quietly, her eyes still fever bright.

"More than you'd ever think," Sam replies slowly – turning to face her properly, smiling big himself.

…

They all end up back at Sam's place just a short half hour after that; Sam offering to get them all fed and watered before anyone retired for the night.

Sam can hear McNally and Nash giggling from his post in the kitchen. He can keep an eye on Boo and Leo from here too; they're out in the backyard, this time with a ball.

He takes a couple more wines into the lounge room for them before the pasta starts to boil; spots the girls side by side on the couch – Nash with a finger pointing to something on her phone.

"I cannot believe I missed Sam Swarek hosting a barbeque!" Andy says sulkily, faux pout and all.

"Meh. No doubt he's due for another one soon," Nash retorts – giving a sly wink to Sam.

Sam groans long and whiny; "As long as next time Diaz and Epstein bring their own beer."

….

Sam serves up the spag bol and salad for dinner – throws some extra garlic bread on McNally's plate.

The three adults chat easily between bights of food; PG rated stories from both sides of the table while Leo's ears pingpong between them all.

Andy talks a little of life undercover – some of it in code, while Nash and Sam get her up to date on the goings on at Division 15. At some point mid-conversation, Traci turns her face to Sam – postulates open and honestly, a finger swinging between herself and Sam "um, I think we make a great team."

He knows where it's coming from; the example they've just told highlighting the balance they bring to a case. But, as Sam's eyes flicker to Andy he notices how she drops her head; how all of a sudden her spaghetti became an insurmountable task.

And he wants to assure here, that _they_ made…make…an even better team – that …that is not what _this_ is about. He can't wrap his head around it yet though, hopes hard that she can relate it to the type of partnership she and Collins may have had.

"What was Collins like to work with?" Sam probes gently, clearing his throat.

Andy pops her head up at that – like suddenly she's seen the light. "Um. Good. Yeah, he's great." Sam can see her brain ticking, like she's grasping for straws. "He's very….self-disciplined and organised," she thinks a little harder, narrows her eyes and scoffs: "well, most of the time."

Nash looks toward Sam again, keeps looking as she chews at some bread.

…

"Dinner was amazing, Sam," Nash says an hour later, leaning in for a quick hug and kiss.

"Yeah! Thanks Uncle Sam," Leo pipes up – taking the opportunity for another pat of Boo.

"Andy – you, ah… wanna lift home?" Traci asks carefully, not sure of where to put herself between McNally and Sam.

Andy's got her fingers around her opposite wrist, circling – she's chewing her lip and looking up at Sam. "Um…" she's breathing a little rapidly too; maybe waiting for a penny to drop. "I just…"

"I can drive you home later, if you wanted to stay a while longer to talk?" Sam responds as soft as he can, guessing with everything that he's got this one right.

"Yeah, um…" Andy stutters again uncertainly, as she takes to wiping her hands on her hips; "I…I'd like that."

Sam nods, smiles at her as he reaches a hand out – gives her the barest touch of his fingers to steady her wrist.

….

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to put you out," McNally blurts all serious and wide-eyed like she's done the actual deed; Sam having just shut the door after waving Nash and Leo off.

Sam shakes his head. "You're not puttin' me out, Andy," Sam keeps his tone deliberately gentle and soft; "we do need to talk."

He puts his hand light on the small of her back; guides her back into the lounge room. "Take a seat," Sam points to the couch. "Back in a sec."

He figures this could be a scenario, to try one of Sarah's best tricks – heads into the kitchen and reaches for a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine.

…..

When he gets back into the lounge room Andy's still standing. He catches a glimpse of what she's looking at; the watch from Jerry – he left it sitting there this morning when he left in a rush.

He puts the glasses and wine down on the coffee table, inches his way over to her slowly and then takes her hand. "C'mere," comes out as a half silent croak. Sam nods his head to motion in the general direction of the couch, holds her hand tight to guide her there.

They sit down in a position that lets them face one another, mirror postures with one foot on the ground, the other leg crossed on the couch.

Andy picks at a seam of the cushion she has planted on her lap for safety, looks down at it as she states calmly in her very lowest voice; "I was still pretty angry with you when I left." She keeps her voice down there still as she continues, "Thought you might've been angry with me too…" she sucks hard on her bottom lip; "after the fact".

Sam nods - then realizes she's still not looking at him. He lifts her chin with his fingers, gives a wistful kind of grin. "I felt a lot of things."

He pours them both a glass of the red, passes her one before he takes a sip of his own. After he puts it back down, he takes one of her hands in his and sets out to explain. "When I found out where you were, sooner or later I calmed the hell down," he lets out a short laugh as he thinks of way back then. "Hurt pretty bad – but I knew deep down I knew the reasons; knew you did the right thing," Sam gets some sadness stuck in his throat. "Just like the time before".

Andy barely blinks as he talks – but, as he says the last sentence he sees, really sees, pain cross her face. "Sam…. I wish I had've stuck around after Brennan…." She swallows hard and shakes her head. "I know I hurt you back then."

Sam grips her fingers tighter, looks further into her eyes: "Yeah…then I went and hurt _you_."

It seems Andy can't stop herself from looking away on that, her eyes flashing down to the cushion again – a couple of tears on her cheek.

"I really am sorry, okay," Sam whispers to her. "I was…probably still am…pretty fucked up."

She springs her eyes back to his, searches his; "what do you mean by that."

Sam licks at his lips, reaches for the wine to give some heavy-duty lubrication to his ridiculously parched throat. "In all honesty, Andy?" he puts a hand on her cheek, "half the time I don't even know." But, because he wants to give her _something_; "I guess I don't handle my messiness as well as I often pretend that I can."

Andy's mouth twitches a little in consolation, "me either…" then realizing her faux pas, "I mean, my mess – I don't always handle mine so well either."

Sam smiles back real small at her. "I'm trying Andy," Sam stresses to her; "and for you… I'll do anything…try harder still…."

Andy puts her fingers up to his lips, tries to reassure him that she's already figured that out; "You know I was waiting for you too, right?"

Sam scratches at the back of his head. "Well. I guess when Jones relayed back that my messages got through, okay…" then he has no idea how to word the rest, "I wouldn't exactly be wasting my time." He puts a smile with the statement to emphasise the fact he's not getting any of this exactly as he'd like. "Was still freakin' out though, I know things can change.." Sam says it as lightly as he can, not wanting to make her feel like she's done anything wrong.

Andy grins back at him, joining in on the joke; "guess we'd both better make it worth our while then?"

He can't help but snort at her, but he doesn't care much because she prods back – pokes out her tongue.

After a few beats of silence, Andy asks nervously; "so, how do we start?"

Sam looks at her for a stretch of time, does an inner freak out of how that echoes his similar query _last _time around. "I think maybe it's more like: how do we keep moving on…together?" It comes out as a tentative, hopeful question to her – the only one that actually came real natural and felt just right.

Andy drops her head a fraction again, nodding as it goes. She raises it again after a few moments though, lets out another small smile and responds in a barely audible whisper, "yeah…"

Sam gestures between them, suggesting: "We do a lot of this?"

Andy nods back more and more enthusiastically; "yeah…I'd…that'd be great."

….

A little while later when she's inched her way over and curled up in his lap – an arm hooked tight around his shoulder and her cheek warm against his face, she asks him quietly "can you tell me about when Jerry died?"

Sam feels her eyelashes flutter against him, turns his own face ever so slightly to give her a delicate kiss on the ear. "I… yeah…I can try to do that," he murmurs hoarsely, not knowing where to start.

What he does manage to do, is to tell her how completely and utterly _lost_ he was.

He promises her that he never blamed her, only ever himself; explains to her how incompetent and foolish he felt. He assures her that pushing her away was a result of grief and confusion and a whole lot of other things that he's only just beginning to dare to put his finger on. He emphasises that his job, and things like his friendship with Jerry were only a few of the constants in his life. He confesses to her honestly that all of that is still just the tip of his iceberg.

At the end of his explanation, as rambled as it is, he informs her quietly of the moment he knew he really, really loved her – and that he never, ever stopped loving her – even through all of his crap.

"You _loved_ me back then?" Andy asks in surprise.

(_Yeah McNally, back at that burned down building, you trapped inside – me stuck outside and coming close to punching Ollie to the ground)_.

"Well, actually, it's likely it was a long, long time before that…at least the day that you took a bullet in your vest," Sam rolls his eyes at himself, and then gives her a quick kiss on her cheek; "but there's NO way I'd admit that then or before…even to myself."

"Ha!" Andy laughs without a trace of humour; then hides her face in his neck.

"And, I ah…I still love you now, you know?" Sam grins to himself and then because this is getting just that tiny little bit easier; "It's actually stupidly _insane_ how much I'm in love with you."

Andy resurfaces with a shy smile, pulls Sam's face in for a kiss. When she pulls away she keeps a hold of his cheeks, gets herself up tight against his mouth as she murmers right into it: "I love you too."

….

They spend the rest of the night in the very same position. Hours and hours and hours of talking and listening into the early hours of the next morning. Precious, precious moments with each trusting the other enough to disclose at least some of the details regarding their crappy coping mechanisms –

In particular, they grasp together to make sense of the desperate struggles that each of them had with wanting what they _couldn't, or refused to have,_ in the days after Jerry died.

They cling to one another for their own lives as they do it; a barrier to the weight of other questions that neither has the courage to ask yet.


	14. I Saw My Vision, When I Walked The Path

A/N. Hey again, everyone! Thanks for the continued reviews and feedback – very much appreciated!

Just a few things re this chapter;

The tattoo reference here is a result of speculation over at Two Worlds Collide (that appears to have been confirmed by Missy herself - ie that she does now have a tattoo). I have no idea what her tattoo actually does say though - so what I've come up with is purely for the benefit of the storyline here. Some generous creative licence is taken throughout this entire thing on a number of matters, actually – so…bear with me on that!

This comes with **bonus features /M rated scene**! (I wanted to keep this fic as T, but I thought it was also important to explore what I thought might go on with these two as they got to...ahem...a certain place). To cut a long story short, that scene will appear under an M rating titled **_'The Ink Is Here To Stay'_**. That scene happens pretty much at the end of this monster and it's a mere 1000 words or so. It was difficult to find a place to cut and re-start though - so if you are avoiding the M, the ending may seem a little off kilter in this chapter: sorry about that!

Finally, this chapter is the longest ever. Like, seriously! I don't even know what happened here – I kept writing and writing – I trust you'll stop reading if it bores you to death!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue (or any Mia Dyson song).**

* * *

Sam wakes up to a sunlight filled lounge room with some serious crick in his neck.

He has no idea how it happened, but he and McNally fell fast asleep on the couch - possibly mid-conversation….probably a few hours ago. A quick glance at his watch tells him this new day has already well and truly begun.

Sam inspects their tangled forms very, very carefully; he dares not to move.

Andy's still planted firmly in his lap, her head using his shoulder as a pillow. One of her arms is still wrapped around his neck, while the other has got a hand resting on his waist. She's absurdly warm against him; when Sam brushes his fingers at the base of her cheek, he feels like they might burn right off.

The position they're in makes Sam think that if he could manage to inch to the edge of the couch, he could easily hoist himself up; lift Andy's skinny weight and carry her down the hall - let her sleep properly….nestled in the comfort of a bed.

He considers the potential of that scenario for a while; tries not to interrupt her in his futile attempt to stretch out the pain that is growing in his neck.

…..

In this moment Sam feels a number of things churning away inside both his head and heart:

Mostly, he is absolutely bursting with what he thinks might be a pure form of _happiness_. Last night they seemingly came to the conclusion that they are going to give _togetherness_ another shot.

Simultaneously, he is completely _wrecked _– like maybe his emotions have been run through the washer and hung out to dry. Also, he is a physical mess; the two or so sketchy hours of sleep that he supposedly _did_ have in this position have done nothing to suggest that his body _hasn't _run a marathon…or worse.

Sam comes to the conclusion that he's getting too damn old, that's for sure.

He looks back at Andy's peaceful form again; her spiky eyelashes are casting tiny shadows on her sharp, pretty cheeks. He thinks about how young she looks – a look that is the exact opposite to whathe currently feels -

Sam's heart skips a beat.

…

He slides his way gently toward the desired position for an effective _lift_; he achieves it somehow – congratulates himself silently in the successful effort not to wake her.

He carries her with soft footsteps to his bedroom; giving Boo a quite _shoo_ before he gently lays her on the bed.

McNally's already barefoot which is convenient, but Sam stands over her – contemplating whether it would be appropriate at this time to take anything _else_ off.

After some extensive internal debate, he figures she's probably slept in far more uncomfortable clothes through the course of her life. So, he decides instead just to cover her with a simple, spare blanket to make sure she's kept warm.

He hovers over her for a moment, finally decides it's safe and reaches down to kiss her lightly on the forehead.

…..

Noticing the time again, Sam patters out to the kitchen to rustle together a quick breakfast for himself and Boo.

After scoffing down a piece of toast and half a cup of triple shot coffee, Sam rushes to the shower – he realizes it'll need to be a quick one, and that he'll have to skip the shave.

When he's out of the bathroom and preparing a travel mug, he puts a few words on paper for McNally. He tells her to help herself to whatever and to feel free to stay there for as long as she wants.

He scribbles messily at the end of the message an inky _Love You_ and then rushes to the door promising Boo a walk in the afternoon.

…..

Sam is hurtling to the coffee stall at the station (figuring _another_ one is worth a shot – anything that might help get him out of this daze) when he bumps into a Peck. She's looking paler than ever, dark sunglasses covering her eyes. She's leaning against the bench in a daydream of her own – seemingly giving it some extra effort by chewing at a stirring stick.

"Morning?" Sam greets her croakily, wondering if she's hiding her own relationship rebuilding efforts from late last night.

Peck looks him up and down from behind her disguise and keeps the rest of her face straight. She doesn't bother to take the stick out of her mouth to advise him; "Take it from me, next time wear shades."

Nash is right beside them by then, obviously noticing how rough both her colleagues look. It appears she's going to say _something_, other than the thing she _actually_ mumbles out: "Couldn't find your razor this morning, Sam?" She twists her mouth as she says it, stares ahead at the drip of the coffee machine.

"Hm, I think scruff suits him," comes the perky voice from behind; Cruz leans across Sam to reach for some sugar - looks straight into his eyes. "Yep. Looks pretty hot," she confirms cheekily, giving him a wink.

Sam opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Truthfully, he thinks he might be in shock.

Cruz is gone within seconds anyway; the sugar stick gripped tightly in her hand as she waves the three of them off.

Sam looks back at Nash and Peck with what he's pretty sure is a comical look on his face.

He notices the girls faces are just as gobsmacked. Peck has her glasses pulled up to rest on top of her head - burning holes with her eyes into Cruz. Nash is open mouthed; her own eyes flicking between the retreating figure of Cruz and the stunned mullet that is now Sam.

He wracks his brain trying to think of what Cruz does and does not – or might not know about him…about Andy….about him and Andy….or _anything_ to do with him as a matter of fact.

Finally, Sam decides she probably doesn't know too much. For sure, gossip is big at the station, but both Sam and Andy have been fortunate; despite their romantic misadventures, they get a lot of respect.

"I think there might be _yet_ another woman in this world that thinks you're cute," offers Peck drolly, chewing again on her stick.

Sam puts his hands up in a pointless surrender for whatever it was that he did or didn't do. "Um, I…" he stutters out – still completely perplexed. He _thinks_ it's probably fair enough that Cruz doesn't know about the 'situation'. It's not like he's ever discussed _anything_ with Cruz outside of work. In fact, away from the odd chat about caseloads, he's barely spoken to her at all –

Sam might needs some advice here, is what he thinks.

He doesn't know whether to go chasing after Cruz or not. He plays out the scenario in his head; _"Yeah, listen Cruz, ah Marlo. I'm flattered and all. But, you know …I'm head over heels with Andy McNally – so, um…get your eyes off…"_

Yeah, no –

Sam thinks not.

He wonders if he's over-reacting anyway. Maybe it was a mere compliment; like if she told Peck or Nash she thought they looked good in jeans.

Sam does a double take at that thought too though, gets himself even more confused.

Peck and Nash obviously pick up on this turmoil that's going through his brain - Traci ever so deliberately building up her smartass, lopsided grin.

Gail surveys Sam speculatively – ultimately letting out a long and loud snort. "I'll go," she drones, rolling her eyes like what she's about to do is going to be the most challenging and painful task ever to have been performed in the world.

"But you owe me one, Swarek," Peck calls out walking away without looking back.

Sam looks across to Nash with an eyebrow quirked. He really has no idea what the hell just happened – wants to get on with his day.

Traci raises her eyebrows in return and grins bigger than before. "I think Gail is giving you a helping hand…" she says brightly; "making sure Cruz is put in her place."

…..

Nash and Sam spend their morning debating the top case in their file: a family man who they suspect has been murdered by his wife - her drip-feeding him arsenic laced lunches over the course of six or so weeks.

The confirmed tox reports are yet to come in, but Sam is a little toey just wanting _something_ to be moving along again.

They agree to go have a casual chat to the man's workmates after they get some hotdogs for themselves.

…

Nash is rubbing the tip of her index finger along a frankfurter to spread the mustard love when she pops the question: "Last night went well?"

Sam smiles small at her as he manages to chew down some bun; "A _lot_ of talking and listening went down."

Traci smiles one of her warmest ones back to him, chancing a peep at his face before she turns her attention again to what she's about to eat. "Good," is all she says – but it's clear, and _concise_.

It's as Nash squirts some sauce that Sam hears his phone go off. He puts it to his ear just in time to hear McNally chomping at the bit.

"I may have eaten you out of house and home," she says through a mouthful of what Sam thinks could be bread.

"Excellent." Sam smirks; "That means we'll be eating out tonight." And –

He has no idea where that came from, other than the fact he's been thinking of her throughout the course of today…_a lot._

Sam hears Andy choke on whatever it was that she had shoved down her throat, pulls the phone away from his ear as she washes it down with a liquid slurp.

"You asking me out on a date," comes out of her like a statement not a question, making Sam smirk some more.

He rolls his tongue around his lips before responding.

"McNally. Andy… Would you do the honour of dining out with me tonight?" And, he's trying not to crack up as he says it, he really…really is, but he can't get her face out of his mind – the way that right in this moment it's likely to have gone monkey cheek wide.

Nash has got a similar expression to what he thinks might be Andy's too – she's standing right by his side straining her ear to his phone.

He pulls away from her, walks a couple of paces and murmurs quietly - just for Andy; "wear somethin' nice?"

Sam figures she's blushing like gangbusters because the phone goes dead silent for at least 30 seconds. Eventually, after Sam's heart has started pumping clear through his chest bone she gives him a giggly "okay."

Sam's is feeling his own face on fire by now; he waves Nash off with his hand as she laughs and shouts out a gushy "swoooooon".

"Is that Traci?" Andy enquires abruptly.

Sam rolls his eyes, wondering who the hell else she thinks it could be. "Uh-huh," Sam confirms, thinking it doesn't warrant much more than that.

"Tell her I need to see her when she gets home this afternoon," McNally demands all loud and bossy like she would with a perp.

Sam rolls his eyes again, feeling like a third grader at recess. He thinks about arguing; _what, you can't tell her yourself? _ But, he censors it ….just a fraction…mainly to ensure he keeps hers - and his -self-respect. "I'll put her on for you," he mumbles – trying hard to ensure it's with his sweetest voice.

"H'okay…" Andy snorts out. "Ooh, but before you hand me over….um…..I just wanted to say….. Boo is the _best_."

Sam grins stupidly over the thought of what her and the dog may have been doing to keep one another company this morning – is already thinking of adventures the three of them might have in the future -

"Um, pick me up at 7 from mine?" Andy breaks into his thoughts. "I'm heading back there now – decided unless I want the power cut off, I got to start sorting through bills."

Sam bites his lip in a giddy rush, jumping ahead of himself and thinking about where he might take her tonight. "Sure, sweetheart," he says in a low, low voice; "7 is great".

…..

When Nash finally hangs up from her own dealings with Andy she's got a truly ridiculous smirk on her face.

He had no earthly idea what the two of them were talking about; Nash's side of the conversation sounding for all Sam knows, like some obscure foreign code.

Sam yanks the phone from her hand and eyes her carefully. He wants to pry – but decides better of it, wants to put her to a more productive use. "_Aside _Andy's usual favourite haunts," he starts on instead, stretching out all the u's; "where's somewhere….different….she might like to go for dinner?"

(It's not like they didn't eat out before – they did all the time; it's just –

Well, generally those times were in a different context to _now_).

Nash gets her thinking face on, cocks her head there and abouts.

She lets out a cluck eventually, speculating; "She probably hasn't had seafood in a while?"

Nash takes the keys out of his hands after that, gives him her cheesiest smile.

…

Sam leaves work early; figures he actually needs to pull an hour or so of sleep before embarking on tonight. He's so damn tired, he's pretty sure the only way he's operated today is with the knowledge that he's got the next two shifts off.

He sets himself an alarm to ensure any urgent chores, dog-walking, and getting ready, is done in easy time after he wakes – before he goes to pick up Andy.

….

By the time he is on his way to McNally's, he's actually feeling not so bad; somewhere in the vicinity that doesn't make him think he's still running off not enough sleep…..

…

He knocks on her door 5 before 7.

After about 30 seconds of waiting he hears her footsteps get heavier on the other side.

When she swings the door open –

Sam loses _every single ounce _of his breath.

(And. Okay. She's done herself up to be beyond her usual pretty and beautiful for him before, but seriously –

Six months and change and looking at her _now_ - highlights just how much he might have missed all of that).

Sam opens his mouth to speak, and closes it again.

"You look pretty too," she laughs out responding to his nonverbal reaction. "And that," she half squeals, pointing to the potted orchid in his hand; "is beautiful!" She makes a grab for the pot and starts to pull –

But Sam's frozen to his spot, gripping the plant for everyone's safety (it serves it's purpose in keeping his hands _off_everything else that he wants to touch_)_ – his eyes taking in every inch of her.

"I take it that IS for _me_?" she pouts at him demanding teasingly with her finger pointed at the plant, her tone eventually breaking through his stupor.

Sam shakes – and then nods – his head, finally managing a smile at her. "Uh-huh."

She stands back from him baffled and puts a hand on her hip; gives him one of her _pistachio icecream, what the hell, Sam? _looks for good measure, before she starts tapping her foot.

He hands it over finally – the plant that is. "Florist said you could grow it inside," Sam splutters out; "I tried to get something that might last."

Andy peers at him for a good few seconds about that line, but then she nods excitedly. She takes the orchid from him and trots over to put it on the dining table, assuring him "I'll read up on 'em later -make sure it survives."

He notices the zip on her dress is only half up, it's the only thing that prompts his feet to start moving – like a moth to the flame, that sort of thing.

Sam follows her across the room, breathing out eventually "you…ah…want some help with your dress?"

"Oh, yeah," Andy says like she's only just remembered she couldn't get it all the way up. She reverses herself back up to him so he can get at the zip.

Sam watches her shoulders goosebump as his fingertips brush her back. Taking _some_ level of pleasure in the effect he's having on her, Sam takes his time in holding the dress in to get at the zip. The dress is black and silky and short and sleeveless – and it _hugs_ at most of her curves –

He has to hold her hair away with one hand as he heads the zip up in the general direction toward where it needs to go. As he does, the fresh spicy scent of her perfume, and the vanilla from what he remembers as her shampoo mingle and waft in front of his nose.

Sam can't help but lean in and inhale it - then lean in closer still to put his mouth light onto the soft of her neck.

Andy shivers again, this time all over; she lets out the tiniest sigh he thinks she might've been trying hard to hold in.

Sam takes that as a dare and moves his body closer to get his mouth at her ear. "You are," he whispers quietly "….without a doubt - the most beautiful woman that I've ever known." The rest of the murmur was breathless, unquestionably a result of the way she gets under his skin. He plants another three delicate kisses on the back of her neck, and a fourth to the edge of her cheek.

Andy sucks in a breath and turns on her heel suddenly - her mouth all pouty and looking like it might say something smart.

But - then she doesn't. She must recognise the expression on Sam's face as genuine not schmoozy, her glossy lips finally turning their way up into a smile.

A blush crosses her cheeks that Sam finds even more endearing; it makes him want to kiss her again. He stops in his tracks though when she croaks out a wobbly full smile and a watery "thankyou, Sam."

They stand looking at one another a minute longer to let the moment sink in.

"Ready?" he asks with his eyebrows up high.

Andy points in about twenty directions out of nowhere all of a sudden, flustered and nervous; "I'll just get my shoes."

She teeters back to him in her clicky heels finally, gets herself standing in front of him and around the same height.

Then, like she wants to take advantage of it – leans in and plants an easy kiss on his lips.

"Let's go," she sighs, grinning big.

….

On the drive to the restaurant Andy talks his ear off about her morning with Boo –

No wonder the dog was tired on his walk; Sam's pretty sure she had him on a continuous roster demanding to be shown all of his tricks.

"But he's so clever and cute, Sam…" Andy informs him, like it's something that he doesn't already know.

Sam smiles at the busy road in front of him the rest of the drive there.

….

It's Joso's they go to – on the recommendation of Nash.

Andy seems to be happy with the choice - gaping her mouth wide at him as he manages to find a park that won't make her walk too much.

She claps her hands as they enter the restaurant, nestling in to his side to push a kiss at his cheek.

Sam just finds himself being delirious about how that energy that is uniquely _hers _is rolling off again in waves.

….

It's during a few of the minutes of comfortable silence deliberating which of the Risottos to share, that Sam hears a squeak out of the blue that could only come from McNally: "I got a tattoo."

Sam's brain switches gears –

Strike that.

Sam's brain goes mind-numbingly _blank_.

When he chances a glance up from the menu about a hundred minutes later, she's peering back at him suspiciously – her mouth open and chest heaving as though she's just run a race.

Sam swallows - then chews - the insides of his cheeks.

….

He can only see her top half from here, but he thinks back over these past few days; wracks his brain as to whether any inch of her body has displayed the slightest hint of some ink.

Nope, no – it hasn't.

It's not like the barest glimpse _wouldn't_ have sent him on a manhunt for further knowledge...

Sam squints at her now; bores his eyes through whatever part of her that _is_ within view.

"It's not…" Andy stutters nervously and with an expression that's in the general vicinity of fear. "It's kind of around my ribs," she finishes machine-gun rapid –

A statement that hits Sam square in the heart.

….

When he's calmed the heck down just enough to form a sentence, he considers coming out with a joke: _hearts and mothers, that sort of thing._ Only, he doesn't; is fully aware this is _serious_ stuff.

(_"What does this mean?" Andy asked him one morning back in the beginning - all breathy and post coital as she traced the outline of his._

_"Initials of my first TO…" Sam replied cautiously; "he got killed on the job."_

_Sam didn't stick around to give her the details back then, was up and into his jeans before she could ask any more -_)

Sam decides here and now to tell Andy more about his own ink some time very soon.

…

"You want to tell me what it is?" he probes her gently, back to looking her straight in the eye.

It's Andy's turn to swallow then, but she finally bites her lip and replies. "It's…um…you might think it's a little cliché," she says pretty miserably – rolling her eyes. She looks about 12 years old as she says it, possibly worried over the prospect that Sam will either laugh or yell.

"It's obviously important to you," he smiles small at her - reassuring with every ounce of authenticity he can muster up. And, he does mean it, is the thing. He would never dismiss something as _personal_ as that. "So, it's important to me."

Andy grins back at him imperceptibly, he sees her shoulders drop just a touch – a release of a breath and an enforced _relax_.

"Candor dat viribus alas," she says in only a volume audible to Sam.

The Latin quote is actually kind of familiar to him. He can't place where he may have heard it, or a translation as such, but he's pretty sure it refers to…

"Sincerity gives wings to strength," Andy confirms, interrupting his search through memory banks.

Sam nods slowly, gets some images of her and that lion heart out in unfamiliar terrain; empathises with how difficult it is at times to remember who you are…. and how and why you're there.

"I guess, I needed a reminder to keep close to the truth," Andy says by way of explanation, raising an eyebrow at Sam –

He absolutely doesn't need an explanation though…he truly _understands_.

In _this_ moment, McNally doesn't appear so young to Sam anymore. He sees a lot of emotions flash across her beautiful face – if he had to hazard a guess here - her eyes are telling his that the _truth_ is (always) what she wants.

Sam reaches his hand across the table and slides it under one of hers, wrapping his fingers so they brush her knuckles. "It's perfect," he tells her with a husky voice. "It's you."

Andy casts her eyes down quick, and then straight back to his. She searches him again a while, and then whispers "thanks."

….

They share the Pescatora quietly, Andy relaying cautiously some more tales from life back in UC.

Sam feels his heart pang for her more than once…..thinking of all the nights he wasn't there to support her when she might've felt afraid.

…..

"Nick was great, though…" Andy assures him. "Reliable and trustworthy," she defines, popping some shellfish in her mouth.

Sam sits back in his chair, wipes his mouth with a serviette and considers how to flesh that topic out –

"Did, um…" and then he feels sick. He takes a swish of water and looks at her perplexed face. "Did anything ever happen…between you and Nick?" And it's not that he doesn't trust her, okay. God – is it ever not that. It's just that Sam_ knows _what things can be like under…..knows what it's like when you're in danger ….and for all purposes…..alone. He has to ask though. He just wants to know –

Andy doesn't take it so well; a storm crosses her face as she throws down her fork.

And, _this_ reaction – ladies and gentlemen – is why he struggles with _talk._

"Sam…." Andy huffs out angrily, looking for all the world -pretty upset.

"Andy, Andy wait-" Sam pleads with her. "I just….I just had to ask." He looks down at the plate in front of him, not feeling hungry anymore. "I know you said you waited for me, okay….I trust you on that," and he doesn't know how to do this, but he wants to make it so she understands -

For as much as it would essentially kill him, he would….understand….

So, Sam tries to explain as best he can: "But, something, even a little thing, can happen in the types of situations you found yourselves in."

She calms down just a smidgen then, makes him look her in the eye. She tells him _very_ firmly: "God…just _no,_ Sam - " and then goes back to snorting "it was always brother and sister ….in _every_ respect."

"Okay," Sam says gently, shrugging – now desperately wanting to drop the whole thing. "I'm sorry if the question made you feel…." Sam motions his hands around, doesn't know which emotion might sum it up best. He decides to wrap it up with a more concerned-for-her voice: "Anyway, I'm glad you had him there for support."

Andy chastises him a little more though, not letting him off the hook; "I am a _professional_ you know."

Sam cocks his head and sighs. "Jesus, Andy. Sweetheart," he appeals to her – putting his hand back out. "I know that. You're one of the best." But, because he feels just the tiniest bit annoyed with her for not getting his point. "_Things_ happen, okay – on the job or not."

She looks at him then, considering. "Anyone else ever happen to _you_ while you were UC?" and like she's starting to get his drift: "_Besides_ me?"

After giving himself a few seconds of silence, Sam jumps from the ledge and answers: "Not quite." Then, because he wants to continue to show her how human he is…(that's half the fucking problem last time around he thinks, how she went into it with him on a pedestal – an ideal that he was only too happy to support):

"Almost…with a targets girlfriend. On my second UC." He clears his throat and figures what the heck. "I blurred some lines when it came to wanting to protect a victim. Luckily I confessed to my handler that I thought there were some reciprocal feelings going on…..he helped get me straight."

It's one of the biggest confessions Sam's ever given her – or anyone else, and he feels vulnerable that it's out there – but at the same time he feels a weight off his shoulders; relieved that it's done.

Andy's expression changes for about the fourteenth time. It goes softer than Sam's seen in the last few minutes – like now she might be coming around.

She nods eventually, says simply "things _are_ pretty tough, huh?" She bites at her lower lip and concedes, "I'm sorry, Sam." Andy face and voice go softer and softer; "I know you must've been out of your mind sometimes wondering what the hell was happening to me while I was away."

Andy lets him take her hand again then, finally gives him the edge of an empathetic smile. "Nothing happened between Nick and I….or anyone else."

Sam taps at the top of her wrists, considers that while he's on a roll – and things couldn't possibly get any worse than that last bit -

"Um, okay…" he eyes her cautiously.

Andy eyes him back.

"There's nothing for you to worry about….but while we're on _this_ general topic…" Sam says fumbling with the serviette in the hand that's not holding hers. "Um, I think I got flirted with today." It comes out of him almost like a question; like Andy will be the one who knows -what on god's earth actually happened today.

Andy sits bolt upright, sticking her fingernails into his hand. And, if he thought she looked stormy before –

Well.

At least the saving grace is that _this_ time it doesn't appear to be directed _his_ way…

….

Over the remainder of their meal, Sam tells her frankly about the coffee station incident with Cruz. Andy huffing and puffing to interrupt him, ensuring she extracts every single detail of what went down.

She also goes after him like a bloodhound, probing the gap in general of Sam's past six months – and for _godssake,_ the months when he first broke it off.

_("The one you were playing pool with?" Andy scowled at him. "Hmm? Anything happen with that?"_

_He had to think long and hard for a good few minutes, Andy drilling it down to exact date and time…before he realized she was referring to Becca's play on Oliver over the course of a week)._

It's during this conversation that Sam confesses everything he can think; figuring better now than ever again. He surfaces Kate Preece's interest - and even that stupid drunken kiss from Peck.

He doesn't mean to blab about the Peck one actually, but obviously Andy is getting better and better when it comes to her interrogation skills -

Sam assures her that Nash was there too, and in no conceivable way was the minor indiscretion anything more than Gail actually wanting to punish everyone – including herself.

"I'm gonna kill her," Andy snarls jokingly –

Bu not with _any_ trace of humour when she reports to Sam: "And I'm gonna kill Cruz." It's only a butter knife that she's got in her hand as she says it.

Still –

The way she knocks it against the table makes him jump.

….

The walk back to the truck is only slightly less eventful, Andy deciding to take her heels off so Sam ends up having to practically piggy back her part of the way.

"I could get used to this," she giggles delightedly as he plants her down gently in front of an icecreamery deciding this will do the trick for dessert.

She's standing there fiddling with his belt loops and giggling something inane into his ear, when out of nowhere her mouth and eyes open wide…. proceeding to tuck herself further under Sam's arm.

"Don't look behind you," she demands at him through gritted teeth.

Sam takes that as an open invitation to do _just_ that.

She whacks Sam hard on the stomach as he notices who he thinks she might be talking about – well, after all – the man and woman behind them are the only other people in the shop.

"Chocolate and pistachio," Andy instructs brassily to the girl behind the counter, as Sam turns slowly back.

"Andy?!" comes the voice from the tall, athletic, blonde dude that is now at their side.

Sam and McNally both look over to the man and the petite brunette that's tucked under his arm….who reminds him a little of….Andy….

Andy puts on the most ridiculous Suzie home-maker face that Sam's ever seen; a big, fake, and surprised _nice to see_ you smile that Sam can't recall ever having seen out of her before. "Aaron!" she says loud and faux friendly, "Um. Hi…!"

Sam looks between them, decides he's annoyed - there's definitely some history there.

(Actually, he _knows_ there is. He's pretty sure he's now looking at the long-term College boyfriend that she told him all about when she was trying to extract the romantic history of Sam).

Andy looks from Sam to Aaron to Aaron's …lady friend… obviously unsure of where to take things from here. "Aaron, this is um.." she stutters finally… "my…um…this is Sam," Andy nods her head quickly, talking to herself. "Sam, Aaron, Aaron, Sam." She's swinging a hand between them, occasionally poking at Sam's chest.

Aaron reaches out for a hand to shake - his toothpaste commercial face smiling down at Sam. When he's finished being polite, Aaron rubs his hand on the arm of the woman next to him – tells Sam and Andy; "This is my girlfriend, Renee."

The two of them are cute and preppy, and by the way they're dressed Sam reasons definitely well off.

There is an awkward few moments while the icecream is served, Aaron asking Andy how she has been.

"Good. Um. Great," is about all she comes up with as her fingers twitch nervously on Sam.

Sam stands there looking at her, running a hand up and down her back. He decides to step up to the plate after a short while of her blubbering; "Andy's awesome at her job." He grins at Aaron real friendly, informing him "Got handpicked for a high profile taskforce 6 months ago – was responsible for bringing some of the city's major criminals down."

Sam keeps his hand on Andy as she starts to settle - and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the way she just grabbed at his ass.

Finally, finally, finally Andy's icecream gets served. She clutches it in one sweaty hand as she keeps the other on Sam, nudging him toward the door. "Nice seeing you," Andy says over her shoulder to the other couple as she makes a bolt to get out.

….

The ride home is quiet.

Sam's feeling a little queasy from trying to prevent images of Andy and a series of good looking blonde men from entering his head -

He thinks about asking Andy what's going in her own, but in all honesty – he's feeling a bit q & a'd out right now. He knows they still have a lot to get through, but this has already been a hell of a date –

Besides that, he wants to do some deeper thinking to himself about more productive things – the tattoo and the way she fumbled over how to introduce him being top of Sam's priorities here….

…

It's when he walks Andy to her door that she finally blurts out what has obviously been the thing on _her_ mind the whole way here:

"Are you my boyfriend again?" she asks irritably – obstructing Sam from getting a foot through her door.

Sam can't help but grin at her, bites a tease that's right on the edge of his lips.

"Yeah," he replies slowly, stretching the word out and testing her quietly. "Assuming, of course…" Sam steps about two inches closer - getting right in her space. "You want me to be?" he's off and grinning again at her - dimples full and out.

Andy has an absurdly adorable look about her - another blush crossing her face. She stands her ground at him though, flicks some hair back over her shoulder before she finally loses a battle with her own smile. "Yes, I want you to be," she says haughtily, rolling her eyes.

Sam takes a final step in then, chancing his luck. He gets his lips to hers and gives her the lightest of pecks. "Good," Sam declares sternly, then takes a step back.

She opens her eyes, scowling at him as she notices the space.

And Sam might be anxious to see that tattoo, okay – might be wanting like anything to get her all laid out, but he is _not _going to let her get any whiff of his desperation here; will not let her get the upper hand in this fun, little game. He might be in a bit of trouble though –

"You wanna come in?" Andy asks coyly from under her eyelashes, letting loose at least part of yet another smile.

Sam cocks his head at her, raises an eyebrow and keeps a dimple on one cheek. "You _want_ me to come in?"

McNally glares at him like she might get dismissive, but then bites at her lip. She musters up some more bravado though, sends him a pout. "I asked _first._"

Sam lets out a loud single laugh, throws back his head. He bites his own lip a few times while he stares at the ceiling, then at long last concedes. He doesn't let her all the way off the hook though, gets a heated look happening and gazes straight in her eyes. He takes a step toward her again that ends toe to toe. "Yeah," he breathes out on her lips. "I wanna come in," he says finishing with a bump at her nose.

Andy's felt the heat for sure, Sam noticing the way her chest heaves in and out. After a good few minutes of them in that position she coughs nervously and backs away toward the kitchen, knocking into some furniture as she goes.

Sam follows her in slowly, tries his best not to look like a predator – despite feeling the part. He watches as she reaches for a couple of glasses – and a bottle of scotch.

He leans himself up against the bench – still watching – Andy putting her head and hands in the freezer on a desperate search apparently for ice trays.

Her movements go roadrunner fast but a little shaky as she pours them both a drink. She swills hers down in one long gulp, the burn bringing a scrunch to her face.

For what it's worth, Sam just stands there - still watching. He's still smiling too – doesn't bother to try tamp down his stupid grin. He takes a few sips politely at his own drink as she pours and swigs another of her own.

Sam decides to put her out of her misery eventually - he reaches a hand across and takes hold of her glass.

He takes both her hands in his and goes serious and quiet. "We don't have to rush this," he whispers to her softly and honestly – keeps a watch on her face.

"I know," Andy responds real quiet, a small smile on her face.

He pulls her over to him gently, gets himself squeezed between her and the bench. When she's all the way steady, he puts his arms around her and hugs her in tight.

It's McNally that makes the next move, pulling back from Sam just a fraction to give him a kiss. It's delicate and soft, but it's _searching_…and builds in intensity as she starts to move her whole _self_ into it; long, hot licks into Sam.

Sam sees stars after a while, his whole body electric as she puts her hands on either side of his face.

They both gasp for air when her mouth comes off his –

Sam is well and truly done for when he sees Andy's pupils have completely blown….

He turns them around and gets his hands under her backside – lifts her to the bench. He gets his body between her legs - makes sure he can get right up close; then leans _all_ the way back in -

Andy hums soft into his mouth as he kisses her again. Sam's pretty sure she felt the way it made him vibrate as she gets her fingers in his hair.

_His_ hands are on auto, like they've got a mind of their own; they go from her hair to her face and neck and start running all the way down.

Andy's hands go to Sam's shoulders when he gets hold of her hips – it's like it's all she can do to hold on…between that and her legs.

She's murmuring some nonsense between the kisses, mainly just sighing out and telling Sam how good it all feels.

"I want…" Andy chokes out in a sob, his hand sliding up her leg. "Sam…I want…" like she can't finish, letting out a sharp gasp and then biting into his neck.

Sam takes a step back – just for some air, but then he looks at her again – her eyes closed and cheeks flushed, her legs swinging out to pull him back in.

He catches her by the ankles this time - slows her down by gripping at her feet. Her spiky heels cut into his palms as she pushes at him demandingly, her eyes opening bright with some fire.

Sam drops his eyes just long enough to work out how to get her heels off; drops the shoes gently on the floor beside him as he pulls her body further toward the bench's edge.

There's a whole lot of Sam that wants her right _here_, wants badly just to show her how much he's missed _this_.

But –

The way she's watching him now – open and honest and vulnerable – makes him want something else. It makes him want to show her _everything_, for her to feel like he really does deserve her trust again.

He steps into her and lifts her, Andy's dress riding up just enough to let her get her legs around his hips – and hold onto him like that.

Sam walks them slowly to her bedroom, Andy's arms draped heavy over his shoulders and her face in his neck.

He puts her on the bed carefully, gives them both some space to figure this out; his knees stay right on the end –

Andy crawls up to be face to face with him after a moment, reaches out her hands. She rakes at him slowly with her fingertips – from his shoulders to his chest to his waist…

As she starts to unbutton him, he worries he might fall down on top and hurt her – so he strains his calves hard to keep his balance, watches on fascinated as she gets him undressed.

When she finally has him all the way naked before her, she reaches out gently and puts her hands in his. She moves Sam's arms so they're around her, pulls his shoulders in her direction to motion him further on the bed – like they're two bookends, no book between.

It's when Sam is on there – safe and secure – that he dips his hand under her hair and latches on to the top of her zip.

He pulls at the zip slow and careful, keeps his mouth on her ear. He tells her softly; "I want you too" as the zip goes all the way down.

They still, silent, for the longest of moments – Andy with the palms of her hands flat on Sam's chest. She leans forward to kiss him and bump at his nose.

Sam cannot think of anything but how he loves her, how he wants…. this – everything – to work –

So….he puts his hands on her face as though it's momentum, and tells her just that...finally goes about slowly, slowly, slowly inching her dress up and over her head.

* * *

She rolls him hard onto his back after – keeps a leg tangled over his and a hand around his waist.

She laughs into his shoulder finally, kisses it to cover her smirk.

Sam turns his head to get a look at her face as she says it, but it's well and truly hidden under her hair.

"Probably it's not good to wait 9 months for next time," she mutters against him sleepily.

Sam closes his eyes and smiles. "Probably you're right."

Sam's pretty sure right now that they shouldn't wait a day.

* * *

_A/N: For the censored scene go to 'The Ink Is Here To Stay' (rated M)_


	15. Not All The Parts Work

**AN: **Thanks again for the reviews everyone, they mean a whole lot!

I'm actually uploading this one promptly as a shout-out to Kezzaz83 who wanted a speedy update; consider it payment in kind for the fabulous stories that _you_ write :)

**Warning: **Some minor sexual references, as well as my usual language related stuff. Actually, there's a few dips into sexual innuendo here...but I blame that on Sam and Andy and make no apologies for those.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam's eyes flutter open slowly after the best sleep of his life. He turns his head slightly to see Andy wide awake and watching him; a curious stare written all over her face.

"You've got the prettiest eyelashes," Andy declares with her lips curled up. "Like, seriously, stupidly pretty," she reinforces – like, maybe Sam didn't hear her the first time. She nudges at his inner thigh with her knee – that long leg that's been draped over one of his own the whole night.

Sam's got an arm stuck under her ribcage, so he pulls and hoists until she's all the way on top of him. "Wanna know what else is pretty?" he asks her like he's just been annoyed by her selection of juice. And then just as seriously cross: "You," he informs, pulling her down for a kiss.

She giggles some pretty sounds into his mouth and rolls her hips hard and _down_.

Sam lets out a low groan and slides his hands to the curve of her ass.

…..

Andy's got a mouth full of toothpaste some hour or so later after they've finally, _finally,_ managed to get out of bed…then the shower…when she let's out a gasp that reminds Sam of the time they watched that truly corny horror flick together a long time ago.

"Shoot!" she mutters pulling her hair back as she spits into the sink. "Claire's coming around," Andy explains to the basin – like it really needs to know.

_Well,_ Sam thinks –

That particular revelation could signal the end of the debate they were just having about where to go for brunch.

He rubs a towel rough over his hair then wipes at his face. "Is that a thing that's happening any time soon?" Sam asks casually, like it's _not_ the worst news in the world (even though it is. It really, really is).

Andy's eyes are peering into the vanity mirror by now, searching out Sam's. She's got a suddenly serious look on her face all told, but pulls on a grin eventually – shows Sam her sparkly, white teeth. "Um. If the time is close to noon…."

Sam rolls his eyes at her, loops the towel around his neck.

Andy pouts at his expression, straightens herself up. "What. I forgot," she informs him with an innocent shrug.

Sam gets himself right up behind her, nudges a little at her backside as he pushes his hips forward. He gets his arms around her when she rolls her own eyes, looks at them both through the mirror before he decides to plant a kiss on her cheek.

"You forgot," Sam says disbelieving, biting her lobe.

Andy gets all flustered at the gesture; she starts flapping her hands at him like this is his fault. "Yeah, well." She smirks at him – actually does blame him by the sounds. "Had other things on my mind."

Sam gets a hand under her hair and scoops it all up; gives her a hot, wet kiss on the back of the neck. And, okay –

He's going to have to cool his jets here. They may have just had a whole bunch of sex in the last 10 hours or so, but he's already feeling _something_ again –

He does not, not, not wanting Claire walking in on _that_.

Sam steps away from Andy, gives her a light smack on the behind. "You'd better get yourself decent then, huh?" he smirks at her.

"I'll give _you _decent," Andy snorts – turning to poke the bristly end of the toothbrush into his chest.

Sam grins bigger, gives her an "uh-huh" in agreeance as he walks out of the bathroom.

Andy stomps after him; she's got a fluffy towel wrapped around her but she's still pretty damp. "You can stay if you want," she prods…hot on his heels.

Sam turns suddenly - decides to get serious about this. They've stopped dead centre of the living room – a place that feels like no-mans land right about now. He takes her hands in his, winding their fingers tight. "Don't you think maybe you'd like to catch up with her alone…" and then because he doesn't want her to get the wrong idea: "first time you're back…"

Andy looks at him, considering; her mouth all twitchy and pulled. "Guess that…" she starts pondering some more, bites at her lip "is a good idea."

Sam nods and leans in to give her a quick kiss – then drags her into the bedroom so they can both get dressed.

….

"Talk to you later," Sam murmurs into Andy's ear as they stand at the door. She's been kissing him goodbye for the last 5 minutes, taking up residence permanently on her toes.

They hear some footsteps and a throat clear behind them – Sam has no doubts who it is.

He pulls away from Andy gently, keeps a hold of her hand.

"Hi Claire," Sam chimes out friendly enough, looking at McNally's mother square in the eye.

Claire looks between the two of them, a possibly not so genuine half-smile on her face.

Not to be deterred, Sam leans in and kisses Andy on the cheek one last time, and for good measure he whispers; "love you," right in her ear.

McNally smiles brightly back at him, blushes and tells him in a little voice: "See you soon."

Claire gives him half a wave; Sam feels two sets of eyes on his back as he leaves.

…

Sam figures the detour in plans will mean he'll be spending his day off with Boo and the bike.

(His work on it this past month or so has been sporadic at best. He still hasn't told anyone about it at this stage – prefers to potter away when he can…quietly; buys in spare parts when he wins at the poker table, or does extra shifts.

Before the bike, the last time he spent any real time on machinery was a few solid weekends helping Jerry with the sports car –

Ollie and Jerry spending time in the garage with him…doing stuff-all but kick tyres and drink beer).

He thinks about texting McNally a few times, wishes now that he had mentioned bumping into her mother while she was away…

Still –

He figures he said or did nothing wrong the last time he saw Claire.

…

It's late in the afternoon before he gets a status report from Andy. He's on a break from the garage, throwing some ball about the backyard for Boo.

_Can I come over?_ is the text he gets.

….

Sam kisses at Andy's flushed cheek as she meanders through the door.

(She insisted on walking here – Sam guesses she needed the air and thinking time).

"How'd it go with your mum?" he asks her softly, pouring a couple of glasses of water for them.

"Okay." The response is sharp and blunt, taking Sam a little by surprise. Andy reaches for one of the glasses and heads in the direction of the back porch to go and see Boo.

…..

"She, um…tell you we bumped into one another before you got home?" Sam asks – wondering if McNally's current bout of moodiness could be attributed to that.

Andy's sitting on one of the chairs, petting Boo's head - the dog now panting happily by her side. "Yep," she says quietly popping a hard edge on the p.

Sam nods, strains his eyes considering what the fuck Claire might have said. He takes a swig of his water, figures he'll wait a while longer before probing further; see if Andy comes to the party on whatever the issue is first.

"She asked me why I was taking you back," Andy confesses eventually – her shoulders slumping, a motion of defeat.

Sam just nods some more; starts considering how he might put up another defence.

…..

It turns out he doesn't really have to… apparently McNally did a pretty good job.

Andy replays the conversation to him between swills of water – tells him she told Claire that it's not really her business, but that if it was…she's an adult, and she trusts and loves Sam –

Sam's chest goes tight as he listens to her. He gets blown away with just how trusting this woman really is when it comes to him…

He holds a hand out to Andy eventually, takes hers and puts a kiss to the back of it. "Thanks," Sam says quietly, smiling small at her.

Andy shrugs, more confident but still a touch….sulky. "You don't need to say that," she tells him frankly. "Besides. She's leaving again."

Sam's mouth opens – then closes again.

"What…?" he asks Andy finally – genuinely surprised.

"Husband got a job offer at another uni – other side of the state." Andy looks neutral as she says it, but there's something more there.

Sam yanks at her hand to pull her closer; gets her into his lap.

Boo follows too, the damn dog sitting right on their feet. It's a tight hug all told; Sam and Boo covering most of Andy as she puts her face in his neck.

"Sorry sweetheart," Sam whispers to her so, so quiet as he rubs some gentle circles in the small of her back.

…..

"Wanna see what else had my attention while you were away?" Sam murmurs after Andy has given him a rundown about what she thinks might happen next between her and Claire.

Andy nods her head against his chin, then pops up to look him with a curious look in her eyes.

He takes her hand and leads her to the garage – takes the sheets off the bike.

McNally stands in the spot gawking, her eyes close to popping out. "You bought a bike?" she asks big, still looking at the bike.

She's got her arms crossed too – like maybe she's been told _don't touch_ more than once in her life.

"Better than that," Sam smiles at her. "I bought a bike that needed work."

Andy whips her head to him then, opens her mouth. "You're doing it up?" she asks him eventually – her mouth turning into a grin.

"No finish date," Sam explains to her as he chews his bottom lip. "It'll probably always need tinkering with….but I figure that's not a bad thing."

Andy smiles bigger and bigger at him, edging her way over to him. She gets to her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, and then rests her head on his shoulder as they stand together to discuss the what's been done so far.

…..

They order takeout for dinner that night, Andy taking half of Sam's noodles as well as her own.

She's got her feet in his lap, leaning against the arm of the couch – chopsticks in the air, dropping the odd morsel down for Boo.

"You see my dad as well?" she asks cheekily poking at Sam with a toe while she sucks a noodle down her throat.

Sam smirks at her even though he's not sure how she'll take it. "I did," and then because he did take Tommy up on his offer "had dinner with 'em a couple of times."

Andy's eyes go very big; she almost drops her noodle box. "Seriously?" she asks with her mouth still full – but behind it…is definitely a smile.

Sam smiles back at her, informs her in a nonchalant sort of manner; "your dad probably won't be as disappointed as Claire to hear we're together again".

"Good," Andy laughs at Sam, gesturing between them with the chopsticks: "'Cause _we're_ having dinner with him and Amy tomorrow night."

Sam huffs back at her good-naturedly, rolls his eyes and pokes his own chopsticks at her foot.

…

On their way back to Sam's from Tommy's the night after, Andy's singing along to the radio with her feet on the dash when he decides he's just gonna take the plunge –

"You…ah….you still wanna meet _my_ family?" Sam asks a little croaky; chances a peep at her from the corner of his eye.

McNally whips her head in Sam's direction cartoon fast, takes a good, hard look at his face.

Sam turns his head to glance at her just long enough before he needs to get his eyes back on the road. "Andy, you wanna meet my family?" he asks her serious but soft.

She smiles big at him, nods her head frantically – maybe thinking he'll retract the offer. "Yes, Sam," she says like she's just won a poker tournament. "Of course!"

…

When he gets her into bed that night she's absurdly…happy and warm.

She plants herself on top of Sam to get her mouth at his ear and tell him breathlessly "I don't care what they're like Sam….I love _you_."

He smiles up at her feeling insanely besotted –

Then watches on fascinated as she slowly slides her whole body _down_.

….

It's not until the next morning as Sam gets ready for work that he gives her some forewarning on the family – figures that when he walks out the door she'll do some thinking about it – probably snoop around his house for any evidence of what he's talking about. She's still got a whole week before she goes back to work, so who knows how bored she might get – she'll probably even try get Boo on the act.

Sam doesn't seem to care though; he's getting the slightest hint of a feeling emerging within himself that he no longer has anything to hide –

"Mum's got some mental health issues," he tells her, stealing some toast from her hands. Sam bites into the corner of it, takes a swig of her coffee and hands everything back.

(He's running damn late again, actually – something they're gonna have to work out…the way she influences certain habits when it comes to getting out of bed – or not getting out, more is the point).

"Haven't we all?" she asks seriously, pouring some liquid into Sam's travel mug.

He kisses her long and slow as she waves him off at the door, the dog barking at their side.

"Have a good day," Sam murmurs at her with one final kiss.

…

"Pleasant weekend?" Nash asks him airily, sneaking a grin before she turns her back in parade.

Sam kicks at the chair she's in next to Diaz – asks the back of her head the same thing.

...

They're looking over witness statements from the arsenic case later when Nash toes at his shin under the desk.

He looks up to find her wearing one of her more ridiculous smirks. "What?" Sam grumbles, putting his chin in his hand.

"You and your _girlfriend_ wanna come over for dinner tonight?" Nash mirrors Sam's gesture, and taps a few fingers against her cheek.

Sam rolls his tongue over his teeth; figures McNally's been on the phone to Nash at various times while he hasn't been within earshot – giving her a blow by blow. Because he doesn't want to give either of them the satisfaction of a blush, he casts his eyes back down to the case files coolly and exhales – replies without any drama: "no doubt that's already a done deal."

...

Andy and Sam aren't the only ones Nash invited to feed; Diaz following Leo to answer the door.

At first, Sam's half expecting the other rookies to jump out from behind the couches, but it turns out to be just the four of them dining – Leo already fed and skipping off to entertain Boo.

Sam actually thinks highly of Diaz – the guy's been cool to shoot hoops with some mornings and always seems like he has everyone's best interests at heart.

A lot of the topic of talk is Diaz and his kid. Chris is pretty open with how hard it is building a relationship with his son from miles and miles away -

For a fleeting moment Sam wonders if any such thought ever entered his own father's brain –

Andy's been slicing her lamb into tiny squares during the conversation, her eyes fixed on the plate. Sam feels like a bit of an idiot for not cottoning on sooner that the news of her mother's relocation is still excruciatingly fresh.

"Sounds like you're makin' it work though...right?" Sam asks Diaz softly, putting his hand on Andy's knee under the table to give it a squeeze.

Diaz glances over at Andy, responds with a firm nod to Sam: "Definitely…" and as though he's trying to come up with something reasonable in terms of advice; "um….technology helps."

…..

The rest of the evening is gossip from either Nash or Chris; it sounds like a foregone conclusion for example that Peck and Collins are on again - and that Epstein has got something or other with the new rookie at 15.

"And what about you two?" Andy blurts out unceremoniously, digging a spoon into her pie. Sam holds a grin in and looks over at her: thinks to himself _took the words right out of my mouth. _ (Sam is seriously not one to interfere in other people's relationships, but something about this one makes him really want to know...)

Nash grins lopsided at McNally. "We're cruisey," she retorts calmly. "Just hangin' out."

Andy raises an eyebrow and gets the pie in her mouth – chews big and exaggerated while Chris sheds a blush.

...

"They're totally hooking up," Andy mumbles in the truck on the way home, like they might overhear. She's got Boos chin resting on her shoulder – flicks her hand back every now and then to tickle at his nose.

Sam swallows at another memory of Jerry, figures he'd want Nash to keep living her life. "Nash deserves to be happy," Sam murmurs to no one in particular.

"Hmmm..." Andy ponders, screws up her nose. "They are kinda cute," she continues – trying to drum up the thought. "Still...he doesn't quite have that...charm...that Trace usually goes for."

Sam grins toward the windscreen. "Have a thing for Detective Barber, yourself?"

Andy whips her head around, practically bumps her nose with Boo's. "Well, no," she says humourlessly, rolling around her eyes: "I obviously like mine less... smooth..."

Sam bites his bottom lip hard, glancing over at her; manages not to say what he was going to say but tells her hoarsely; "I can definitely give you _that_."

He can feel the heat from her blush the rest of the way home.

...

Their motions the next morning are much the same as the one before.

This time McNally skips out of the shower before him though, actually puts together some eggs on toast.

She's foraging around in his cupboards for the dog food when Sam comes up behind her, gives her half a fright.

"Thanks for breakfast," he mutters into her hair, a hand on her stomach to hold her into him tight.

...

She kisses him hard and proper later as he walks out the door, tells him: "I'm goin' back to mine in an hour or so. I've got a mountain of chores."

And - for the first time ever, Sam really doesn't want ...well, he doesn't fancy the idea that she's got somewhere else she calls home. He swallows down a hard lump in his throat, puts his hands on her cheeks to get a kiss to her again. He whispers lightly as he pulls away a simple, but to his ears – shaky: "okay".

"Ooh...um...can I take Boo with me?" she calls out to him after he's finally well out the door.

He turns back to her with a big smile - gives her two thumbs up and then a wave.

...

Noelle catches Sam outside Frank's office a few hours into the day. She's got Ninja with her; the baby's curls almost long enough for pigtails now with how much she has grown.

"I'm back at work next week," Noelle informs Sam, passing the baby to Sam. "Just got some paperwork to do," she explains, turning away from him to head towards Frank's office.

Sam opens his mouth to call after her; babe in arms – he's unsure of what might happen next.

As though she was mind-reading, Noelle turns and throws him a rattle...and then a bear. He manages to catch both...but only just.

….

Sam's telling Ninja about some goofy thing that Shepstein did yesterday - shaking the rattle at her occasionally for the sound effects – when he feels a pair of eyes on him.

He looks to the lower level and spots Andy down there. She's standing frozen in her place next to Peck. He eyes a brown paper bag in her hand – assumes she maybe has bought him some lunch. Boo is at the other side of her being razzed by Epstein...all in all Sam thinks the bunch of them are a motley lot.

The look on Andy's face is priceless though – she's staring at Sam with those huge, brown eyes; her mouth halfway to open with her pink tongue threatening to hang out.

...

He moves down the stairs cautiously – Ninja perched securely up at his ribs. The baby's been gurgling amused since Sam took hold of her, so he assumes she's not going to start squawking for her mother...just yet.

"Hey," he says on approach to Andy – ignoring the mob.

"Hey!" Gail says sarcastic with her biggest put on smile. "I think Andy's hormones just dropped."

Sam gives Peck a look that says _get outta here_; he points at Epstein as he does it – hitches his thumb to the door.

Peckstein scurry to the exit; leaving Boo shaking his head wondering whether to follow them too.

Sam leans in with the hip not holding Ninja – gives McNally a quick kiss.

Andy's still a little flushed and speechless, but finally holds the brown bag up. "Sandwich," she says to Sam – casting her eyes from him to the baby and back again.

Sam smiles at her, "thanks," then drops his tone. "You...ah...you wanna hold her?"

McNally opens and closes her mouth a few times; passes Sam the sandwich and wipes her hands on her jeans. She holds out her arms for the baby - then cuddles Ninja right in.

Sam watches on, focuses on his breathing to take the pain off his heart.

Andy relaxes after a while, holds the baby up in mid air to play a game face to face. McNally and Ninja giggle at one another incessantly; Andy bringing the baby down every so often to plant a kiss on her face.

"She's beautiful, huh?" Sam says, smiling at the pair of them. Andy just nods her head – a look of awe in her eyes.

"Okay you two – hand that baby back," Noelle's voice says from behind them, and then as she winks at Sam; "go make your own."

Sam feels a blush rise to his own cheeks as Andy goes bright red.

"Good to see you McNally," Noelle says bluntly, taking Ninja from her arms. "Guess we'll both be back to normal next week?"

McNally's eyes flash to Sam's on that statement – he thinks he knows why.

"Um...yeah?" Andy responds quietly, looks between Ninja and Noelle and finishes with a more settled tone: "But I guess some things have changed…."

Noelle looks from Andy to Sam then – smiles her own dimpled grin. "That is a fact, McNally..that is a fact."

...


	16. These Are Wonky Training Wheels

AN: Despite the serious tone at the start, this one's for a bit of light fun - mainly to amuse myself! Thanks again to everyone who is stopping by to review - you're awesome! Hope you all continue to enjoy the ride!

Warning: Still with the sexual references and occasional rough word...

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

They're at the pizza joint up the road from Andy's place a couple of nights later when Sam susses her out.

"You...ah...don't think we're movin' too fast?" he asks tentatively, putting a warm hand on her leg.

(They haven't spent hardly _any_ time apart - aside Sam's working hours, this past week –

Andy had a girls' night last night; even then she rang him before midnight to go pick her up).

McNally takes an enormous bite out of the pizza, chews with some focus while she thinks over that. "You think we're movin' too fast?" Andy accuses, looking sideways at him as she licks her fingers.

Sam shakes his head. "No..no..." he clears his throat, takes a sip at his beer. "I want...this". But, because apparently he's a chatty Cathy now and wants to know all her feelings and thoughts –

Wants them both to be absolutely sure –

"I just...want our heads to be clear about what it is we're getting into..."

Andy plucks a toothpick out of the holder on the table; turns her head to look him straight in the eye. She chews a little until she gives any verbal response.

"_My_ head's clear," she reports like a teenager. "I want _you._"

He raises his eyebrows at her, feels like he might be becoming the girl. "I know that, sweetheart..." Sam says to her, trying to keep things cool. "But….what else do you want?" He's angling for a few things here; wants to be sure he knows where they're at with being good cops; wants to know what she's thinking in terms of them actually being two different people who (finally) want the same things.

Andy gives him some eyebrow back; then shuffles a little to move even closer to him. "Are we talking _plans_ here, Swarek?" she asks, rolling her shoulders and loosening up.

What he wants to start with is an assurance she won't take off for another 6 months, but because he knows it's not fair to say that given his own track record –

"Okay...well...I'll start," Sam suggests, nudging his knee into hers. "I like the detective rotation more than I thought that I would," he starts, takes another sip of beer. "I'm done with UC work..." and because that's maybe not a feeling that he will always have; "at least in the foreseeable future...and the long-term stuff isn't where I'm at any more".

Andy keeps her eyes fixed on him as he talks, nodding and holding a fairly unreadable look. She puts her hand over the top of the one he's got on her knee when she finally finishes with her crust. "I don't think either of us can promise we won't _want_ to do something...big and exciting ever again," Andy says to him quietly. "But as for me...I'm happy to be getting back on the beat."

Sam nods; tries to get a further read on her face.

"Besides...moving forward...I hope what we're doing now is a sign that we can talk things out…keep on the same page?" Andy puts it out there tentatively; he hears in her voice that she doesn't have all the answers either – that she's still really scared.

He runs his hand up Andy's thigh, squeezing intermittently as he smiles and nods at her. "I think...that's a good idea." Sam breathes in and out a few times carefully; feels very done with the food.

"I know we'll be working a different dynamic when you get back..." Sam stutters out after a long pause. "But...I think we'll still need to draw some lines?"

Andy puts her head on his shoulder after a couple of beats, does some slow breathing herself and whispers a throaty "yeah, you're right."

...

They get back to Andy's place later to find Boo making himself comfortable on her bed.

"Looks like he's enjoying having two homes," Andy smirks, tickling the dogs' tummy. It's a statement that makes Sam want to rectify that situation….sometime….soon.

Sam climbs on top of the bed with the two of them, puts his foot into Boo and pushes the hound off. "Can we agree right here and now..." Sam murmurs onto Andy's lips as he crawls on top of her. "He only gets to sleep with us when one or the other is alone for a night?"

Andy giggles into Sam's mouth, trying to form a sentence. "Agreed," she answers finally, obviously giving up on some smartass remark.

"Figured you'd see things my way," Sam laughs back, nudging himself between Andy's legs as she yanks his shirt off.

...

Sam tickles at the soles of Andy's bare feet early the next morning. He's standing at the edge of her bed – up and ready for a run to start what he knows what will be a big day at work.

She kicks at him like a filly, but eventually cracks open an eye –

Then throws a pillow at him.

"'Nally," he probes trying to infuriate her, holding both her ankles up in the air as Boo looks on amused. "You wanna come for a jog?"

She puts a pillow over her face – evidently trying to block out the sun and Sam. "All the exercise I need this time of the morning comes from my bed," she muffles out from under her barrier.

And that right there...is an invitation for some humour too good to refuse. "As tempting as it sounds to help you get your heart rate up while you're flat on your back..." Sam smirks down at her, still jostling her legs. "I need some fresh air before I give some suspects the third degree." He finishes his train of thought - drops her legs back down.

Andy sits bolt upright then; flings the second pillow at him with a scowl on her face.

"Want me to get anything while I'm out?" Sam asks, fossicking about for his watch.

"A new body clock?" Andy whines, throwing yet another pillow at him.

Sam leans over to kiss her soft on the forehead. "Grapefruit juice it is," he decides thoughtfully; pulls away from her with a cute smirk and wink.

Andy hikes the sheet up over her head so he can't see her smile. "Totally gonna make you come to yoga with me tomorrow afternoon," she growls out from somewhere underneath.

...

Ollie's staring at Sam like there's a growth on his face when they meet at The Penny for a quick drink later the same afternoon.

"You and McNally playing a little house, buddy?" Ollie finally chortles out after four or so swigs of his beer.

Sam takes a swill of his own, gives Shaw a good natured glare. "What makes you say that?" Sam asks sternly. Although, in all honesty – there are a lot of things that he feels like shouting from the rooftop right now.

"I didn't think you'd appreciate me asking in public about the whole bunch of sex you've been having lately," Ollie retorts bluntly.

"Fuck off," Sam coughs out quietly, holding a laugh under his breath.

...

"Girls wanna see you," Ollie bargains as they head to the carpark a half hour later. "Zoe, not so much...but the girls, yes."

Sam considers for a while - digs a key into his chin. "Maybe we should do a soccer day at the park?"

Shaw's eyes widen considerably, he puts his arms in the air. "Not just a pretty face!" is what he yells to the heavens, claps his hands on Sam's shoulders as the chubby arms come back down.

They decide then and there just to invite everyone, BYO for some grill. Sam also thinks things out in terms of times and dates; doesn't want the event to interfere with where he and Andy _might_ head this weekend.

(The last call he made to Sarah suggested a weekend there before McNally went back to work might be a goer – Sam's thinking more and more it could be feasible...he just has to decide whether to tell Andy or not).

"Um, maybe one arvo this week?" Sam squints his eyes. "Weather's been good..."

Shaw nods sagely. "God forbid the rest of us get in the way of some Swarek McRomancing." Still, he lets Sam off easily: "Thursday afternoon is good – breaks the bad habit of those rookies turning to drink straight after shift."

...

Andy's got her head in Sam's lap later that night – watching some truly awful reality TV show that Sam can barely keep his eyes on at all.

He's winding his fingers through her hair; the dog at his feet, when Andy moans quietly "hmmm, that feels nice."

"It does," Sam whispers back to her with the weight of her hair in his hand. _All of it_ feels nice is what Sam actually thinks.

He talks to her quietly about the plans he and Ollie made, looks down at her to see a huge grin. Sam figures then, that now is a good a time as any:

"This weekend..." he croaks nervously. "Sarah has invited us to go stay."

Andy shifts on to her back to look up at him, gives him an open mouthed smile. Another expression passes over her face, though – nervousness maybe? Or something like that. She bites her lip eventually; then nods her head so it bumps at his groin. "Okay."

...

The soccer it turns out- is pretty damn rough.

The rookies shaping up against the D's and the TO's like they've got something to prove. To make matters even more interesting, all of the kids wanted to be on Sam's team (a matter he suspects is in large part because of Boo). Still –

He feels an obligation to keep an eye on them...and make sure they get plenty of ball. He's not as competitive as he'd normally be as a result, but he is having fun.

The same cannot be said for Andy, however – who is clearly having some issues that Cruz is on the same team as Sam.

McNally throws her arms in the air, yelling "ripped off" when Zoe deems it was in fact a goal that Marlo had scored.

Noelle smirks at her from the sidelines with Ninja on one hip and a pair of tongs in her hand. She points at Andy, shouting out for Zoe to "give that one a yellow card."

Frank jogs to the sidelines, has obviously decided it's time to swap shifts.

...

All hell breaks loose after that; Sam, Shaw, the kids and the dog mere bystanders in some full-scale attack.

Noelle, Cruz and Nash make a brutal trio, but are matched by McNally, Peck and the new rookie in almost every way.

For what it's worth – Collins, Diaz, and Epstein are taking a breather too. They stand side by side to defend their goalpost; they've possibly assumed it's the best they can do.

It all comes to a screaming halt when Cruz slides an impressive tackle on McNally – who until that point, was away for another goal for sure.

Andy yelps out in pain as she crumbles to the ground.

Cruz gets up to dust herself off as the rest of the mob jogs toward them with looks of concern.

Sam's first on the scene though, crouched down at Andy's side to try and get a look at the damage that's been done.

He waves to Frank, as he gently, gently, gently manages to remove McNally's shoe. "Get us some ice," Sam barks at the others while giving an eyebrow to Cruz.

"Was a fair tackle," huffs Marlo breathlessly, still – she's not _that_ inhumane. "McNally, sorry. You okay?"

Andy looks up at her and practically growls. "I'm fine," she snaps. "But my ankle is not."

And Sam already knows McNally's not a good patient... predicts now that he could be in for some hell. He gets the icepack to her lightly, lets her hold it where she wants. "You think it's a sprain, sweetheart?" Sam asks her softly, rubbing his fingers with light pressure over her calf. (He is hoping like heck here that it's not a break; doesn't want _that_ as her welcome back to work).

She scrunches her face up and winces as she puts more pressure on the place its swelled most. "Definitely not broken," she informs him. "Just hurts a lot".

The group seems to have moved a fair way back from them now – it does feel like a private moment actually...like Sam and Andy needed the space.

"How you want to work this?" Sam asks quietly, sifting his other hand through her hair. He'll lift her, carry her, let her use him as a crutch –_Whatever._ He just knows that she won't want him getting in the way of her pride...especially around Cruz.

"Carry me," Andy demands all twenty shades of damsel from under her eyelashes, but with a petulant tone. "Please," comes out as an afterthought – but it is pretty sweet.

Okay then, Sam speculates – not so worried about Cruz' athleticism having one over hers after all.

Sam lifts Andy easily, jostles her into a position where she's got her arms around his neck. As he carries her over to the picnic seats, he notices the way she turns her face to Marlo and gives her the shrug of a three year old….and a sly grin. If Sam looked close, he's pretty sure Andy's eyes would be green.

Sam just hides a smile and shakes his head.

...

Foot up in Sam's lap, Andy gets about 3 sausage sandwiches into her as the group sits to relax. He cops a whole lot of saccharine "pass the sauce, babe?" and "want some of my bread, honey?" type terms of endearment that Sam's fully aware are only for the benefit of Cruz.

Sam decides he's drawing the line if she pulls out a _schnooky bear_ – will give the foot some pressure it doesn't want.

He keeps her happy for the time being though, playing along; asks her all exaggerated if she needs some fanning too.

….

"I really don't think I'm gonna like working with Cruz," Andy says without fuss later that night. She's got her foot up and ice-packed still; is munching on the gummi bears Sam bought for her on the way home.

Sam smirks to himself as he walks back from the kitchen, a bowl of her favourite dumplings in his hands. "Yeah? Why's that?" he queries super serious, taking the empty packet she just handed to him.

Andy throws her hands around a little, gesturing god knows what. "She thinks she's...all that..." McNally responds flustered, not knowing quite the right words.

Sam turns and walks back to the kitchen to throw away McNally's rubbish and get the dog and himself some food.

He lets himself laugh just a fraction when he knows Andy's out of earshot.

She stops being a devil-child after icecream; thanks him profusely for looking after her ….mostly much later and while they're in bed.

...

"What time will you be home this afternoon?" Andy asks him the next morning; the strapped ankle up near his mouth – her breathing all ragged and her voice wispy fine.

Sam slides his hand from where it was to all the way back down her thigh. He holds the bottom of her calf when he finally gets there, plants a kiss on the skin just north of her bandage.

"I'll try leave a bit early," he mumbles. "We'll hit the road before it's too late."

Andy bites her lip and sighs at him. "I'll finish packing," it comes out all dreamy from her - a tell from the state he's had her in for the past hour. "Well...what I can reach," she pouts; more in her usual voice – as she wiggles the injured foot around.

Sam gives her some eyebrow, lifts the foot like it's a diamond and then places it firm into his lap.

She closes her eyes against the hard pressure, her pretty mouth going slack. She stretches her arms out above her head, pushes with her backside to get a tiny arch up. She whimpers out at the way his fingers move back up her leg. "_Saaaam..."_

Sam's breathing picks up; he realizes that as well as finishing early, he's going to be starting late.

* * *

_AN: The visit to Sarah's should be up within the next few days..._


	17. All these roads, do they lead here?

AN: Okay, so I just have to apologize up front here to anyone native to Canada. Unfortunately I have never visited, and don't know a lot about the place – hence a reliance on Google and my imagination to get me through some parts of this. Sorry if my poor grasp of geography causes any offence: none intended, but I hope you still get the general drift.

Thanks again to balladofbliss for some of Sam's backstory...and a general thanks to all of you for the reviews!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

They spend the first part of the trip talking quietly over some music - and Boo's snore from the back. Sam fills Andy in on Sarah's family and the life they live now. He also tells her a little more about his mother – he warns her that whatever she might be expecting, or whatever he tells her to expect...things are likely still to be different to that. It's the unpredictability that he's trying to put across -

"Has your mum always been unwell?" she asks him softly – just out of Oakville or so.

Sam chews inside his cheek, tries hard not to think too much. "Pretty much," he responds, watching the lines on the road. "Got worse after Sarah -" Sam continues in neutral...figures she'll fill in the blanks.

Andy turns as much of her body as she can to face him – watches his hands for a while. "Love you," she says in a small voice.

Sam glances over to her and gives her half a smile. "Love you too."

"Want me to drive?" she changes vocal gears abruptly, sitting up like a prairie dog.

Sam rolls his eyes and pulls into the next gas station; he kisses her as she walks past him at the pump and lets her take his preferred spot. "You always gonna use the L word when you wanna sit in that seat?"

...

Sam closes his eyes when Andy re-starts the truck. He _is_ actually grateful… his eyes were tired before they got started – he ended up at work even later than he expected and felt too guilty to leave early in the end.

He tells her around a yawn, which exit to take - and to wake him for the rest.

...

"I think I missed the exit," Andy says panicking well over an hour later; Sam all bleary eyed and just woken up.

He shakes his head trying to clear the fog, and squints to look about. He finds himself in dark and completely unfamiliar surroundings. "What..."

"Don't yell!" Andy shouts at him – even though he didn't.

"Not yelling, sweetheart," Sam mutters sleepily. "Just wondering where the hell we are." He's seen a couple of signs that have given him a fair idea what's happened - McNally in a daydream singing along to some kind of pop.

He's not angry with her, would find it funny in fact – it's just...this is going to make for an extra long trip. "You sure this wasn't a ploy to _not_ meet my family," he teases –

Which is apparently the wrong thing to say.

Andy turns and gives a scowl to Sam. "I didn't mean it, Sam," she huffs somewhat sulkily. But an apologetic: "Shit...sorry..." comes out of her after a while.

"Andy..." Sam calms her with a hand on her leg. "S'okay.." he smiles over at her, testing. "Might as well go a couple of extra miles up the road -" Sam scratches at her lightly, wanting her to relax. "I'll call Sarah and tell her we'll be there in the morning," he says, jostling her leg. "Assuming we can find a place there to stay the night," he smiles reassuringly - pointing a finger to signage he spots for the small town of Ancaster that is apparently not far up the road.

McNally stutters out a mountain of excuses, her nerves jumpy and all over the place. "But they'll be waiting up for us, Sam" and "what motel will let Boo stay a night?..." being top of her list.

Sam puts his best TO voice on – something that might make the Commissioner proud. "McNally, they can wait...and we'll sneak Boo," he says with a small smile over at her and an eyebrow or two. "I thought you already got the memo? I have an aversion to rules".

Andy smiles back at Sam eventually, calming down just enough to ensure they won't crash.

...

A short while later Sam's sorted a room; it's a B&B with what looks to have all the trappings – despite it's quaint appearance it has a sauna and all.

Andy's hiding out in the truck making sure Boo keeps his head down when Sam gets back to them. He hands her the key, "go open up, I'll grab our bags," he instructs pointing to the direction of the room.

He does sneak the dog in after all, decides it's not worth the whinging from either the hound or Andy if Boo was left in the truck.

Sam puts a quick call into Sarah while he's out there – blames working late and traffic for the impromptu stopover (figures McNally will kill him if he doesn't use a white lie to avert the teasing she's otherwise likely to cop). "Oh yeah?" Sarah says – he can see her smirk through the phone; "sure it's not just an excuse for you two to keep catching up on some time…_alone_?"

…

By the time Sam's inside Andy's already down to her boy shorts and singlet. She's got her nose in the mini bar and an impish grin on her face.

He bites his lip watching her; considers he was a fool before not to go along with the potential for other adventures like this.

"Do you feel naughty?" she giggles out – still looking in the fridge.

Sam takes a while formulating an appropriate response to her - decides it's best not to move from his current spot.

(He's been stuck at the door for minutes now, backed up against it like he's trying to stop a perp from getting out. He's struggling with regular breathing too – the realization dawning of just how well Andy's tan is coming back).

Eventually, Sam clears his throat. "Only if you start jumping on the bed."

Andy turns to face him then, her flimsy singlet and the light from behind her showing up …a lot of things. Sam swallows some more, still guesses it's best to stay in this spot.

She lets out a dirty smirk slowly. "They do room service here?" she asks - a couple of beers in her hand.

Sam raises an eyebrow, points silently to Boo.

McNally quirks one of her own – giving Sam an exaggerated hand gesture indicating the direction of the bathroom.

…

So -

The keep it down hand signals Sam gave Boo before room service arrived really did work.

Andy's feeding Sam chocolate cake with a fork, dropping crumbs in the bed when she asks him cautiously; "You ever go on many holidays as a kid?"

Sam reaches across to wipe some icing off her lips with his thumb then proceeds to lick the mess off. She's draped across him lengthways; warm thighs wrapped around one of his own. Sam swallows down the chocolatey sauce – and clears his throat. "No...Although I remember shipped off to some crazy aunt a couple of times before I was 8."

Andy bites at her bottom lip and casts her eyes downward – strokes the prongs of the fork over the top of Sam's chest. "That must've sucked."

Sam shrugs. "Guess you don't miss what you never have?" But, then because he doesn't want to give her the false impression that _everything_ about his childhood was abysmal: "spent some time with a family that used to drag me about the city to museums and stuff..."

Andy stills the motion of the fork and peers up at Sam. He's never spoken about the foster family stuff before...and doesn't really have the energy to go right into it now. He scrubs a hand over his face, starts to try and explain – "Can we...later...?" but lets the garbled sentiment hang there.

McNally jumps aboard his train of thought easily – just like she read his mind. She flicks the fork to the side table and climbs into a position that straddles Sam. "Bet you were always a lot smarter than you ever made out," she guesses – grinning down at him; Sam expects the statement might've come from images she built up of a younger version of himself in clunky old joints that contained lots of facts.

He snorts at her a little – doesn't want for his tough guy image to be totally abolished just yet: "probably the type that's best kept on the streets..."

"Hmm..." Andy shifts her hips - keeps on looking at Sam with something on her face that suggests she likes every version of him. She gets a hand on one of the bottom corners of her singlet and yanks the thing over her head.

Sam's not entirely sure whether McNally's physical responses to his confessions are some type of reward, or –

Whatever the case, he can't help but skim his hands to her ribs; he starts a thick, slow circle motion with his thumb over her ink. It's then that he notices it – unsure why he didn't pick up on it before. It looks from here like maybe – just maybe...

Well….it looks distinctly like the only two S's in the phrase are a little bigger and darker than all the other letters – and a slightly different font. It's definitely enough to make him want to take another _real_ close look.

He looks up at her with his heart pounding, notices the secret smile on her face. "All that's ever happened between us..." she whispers so impossibly quiet he can barely hear. "I started to want you with me _badly_ when I was gone." Andy bites her lip hard – almost like she can't carry on. Only, then she does –

"Sam...you mean _everything_..."

They still – just watching one another...for the longest and longest of times. Sam is convinced he can hear both their hearts beating in unison – is certain the look on her face is the mirror of his.

He slides her stuttering hips toward his chest eventually – making a firm decision he'll get her pants off with his teeth.

As he clamps in on the elastic he shuts his eyes – listens close to her breathing like it's some sort of drug he needs…

He tugs hard at the fabric when he hears the cue of her sharp inhale.

...

Andy's bouncing about in a light sundress early the next morning – even from here she looks and smells like spring. Potentially for once, she's the first out of bed.

Sam's a little disappointed she didn't wake him for the shower, but there's no way in the world he's going to complain about this view. She looks –

(He's forever using adjectives like pretty or beautiful, decides it's time to pull another one out -)

"Andy..." he croaks, an only just audible float across the room. "You look…gorgeous."

She drops the breakfast menu she's been reading - takes a runoff from the spot she's in near Boo and launches herself at the bed, landing squarely on top of Sam.

"I take it the ankle's 100% then" he mumbles at her neck.

She pulls away and smiles big at him, baring her teeth: "_Everything_ is."

Sam strokes a hand across the cotton on her side and smooths out a crease. He smiles back with the touch of it and echoes softly; "Everything _is_…"

Andy showers Sam with kisses but stops suddenly, like she's remembered what was happening before she swept herself off her feet. "Let's get movin' _sweetheart_" comes out in an accent not too dissimilar to Sam's. "…I got some other Swarek's to meet."

Sam props himself on his elbows and tries to stretch out his back –

Which turns out to be a more difficult task than it should - the adventures of last night having ended up more than half on the floor.

He winces just a fraction, tries not to show her it hurts.

Andy slides a hand around his back anyway – massages a little with her palm. "Bit rough, huh?" she attempts sympathetically….but with the most maniacal smirk.

Sam's almost tempted to pull her back on top of him but decides that could exacerbate his ails. He refuses point blank to give into the spasms though and goes about rolling out of the bed. "Pancakes here?" Sam asks, giving her a quick kiss before heading toward the shower: "Or on the run."

"Well….since this was impromptu…" Andy gestures around the room. "Maybe we just chance our luck?"

Sam grins at her to hide the twist he just felt – nods his head to agree. "Go with the flow huh, McNally?" On her nod, he smiles genuine. "Sounds good to me."

…

"You think Sarah will like me?" Andy asks quietly, a few miles up the road at a breakfast joint. She's just shoved some pancake into her mouth…has a little maple syrup dribbling down the side of her mouth.

Sam nudges her knee under the table with one of his – is tempted to reach across and wipe at her face. "What's not to like?"

Andy grins warm in response – but keeps her eyes down.

…..

McNally's been pulling her ponytail out and putting it together again for well over 15 minutes as they near Sarah's place.

Sam casts his eyes to her a few times and keeps a hand on her knee.

As they turn into the driveway he reassures her with something that he believes as the truth. "Andy…sweetheart…it's _their_ job to impress _you_."

McNally rolls her shoulders back and applies some lip-gloss – relaxes into her seat. "You're the best boyfriend in the world…ever," she declares – her mouth almost all the way closed.

…..

Sam pulls up noticing his mother is perched in a seat on the porch. He has a flashback to the last time he was here – smiles small to himself and tells Andy "that's not something she'd normally do."

Andy gets caught up with looking at his mum while shakily straightening her hair…again. Sam takes one of her hands out of the tangle – rubs lightly over her knuckles. "I'll get our bags later," he tells her as he gently tugs for her to move along.

Sarah comes out the door grinning and sets a quick pace to greet them halfway. "You made it!" she tells them with a smirk; leaving Sam to guess she's speculated there's more to the travelling delay than he first let on.

Boo is first to greet Sarah; paws up and on her before he rushes away when he sees the other dogs.

Sam gives Sarah a big hug and a quick kiss before pulling away to gesture to Andy, who has stepped out of the way but stayed by his side. "Sarah…this is -"

"Andy!" Sarah butts in holding out a hand to shake with McNally. "Great to finally meet you," she says looking Andy in the eyes.

Andy smiles big. "Likewise," she responds friendly, forgetting to drop Sarah's hand.

Sarah hitches the other thumb over her shoulder. "Come on…" she gestures to them quietly. "Mum insisted on waiting for you two from out here."

…..

Sam leans in to hug his mother gently as Sarah and Andy watch on from the sides. He kisses her quick and gone on the forehead, informing her softly; "Mum…this is Andy…" He turns to Andy and gives her a small smile. "Andy, this is my mum…Lynn."

The two women look at one another closely, Andy eventually taking a few slow but long steps in. She reaches out for his mother's hand and clasps firm but gentle, a huge smile on her face the whole time. "So lovely to meet you, Lynn," Andy's voice is full of the heart Sam knows so, so well.

His mother puts her second hand on top of Andy's and gives McNally possibly one of the biggest smiles Sam can ever recall out of her. "You too, Andy," she says quietly – with tiny nods of her head.

….

Rob and the kids get back from the shops shortly after - loaded with bakery goods, fresh fruit and vegetables. The rest of the introductions to Andy take place from the kitchen – everyone pitching in to put the goods away.

Sam's mother watches on from a seat at the table quietly – her eyes when he checks on her every so often flicker with focus between he and Andy. His mother gives him a small smile when she catches him looking at her – then glances back at Andy who he notices is now watching the pair of them…a smile on her face too.

…..

McNally is as popular with everyone as Sam predicted she would be. She goes about her casual way of dividing her attention fairly, asking questions he doubts she'll ever forget the answers to.

She looks relaxed by the Swarek inquisition that gets fired her way too; is generous to a fault when it comes to disclosing things about her own family and how much she loves being a cop.

Every now and then between sips of tea, Andy looks over at Sam from her seat beside him and squeezes his hand.

"So, is Uncle Sam talking to you more now?" Mason asks finally - his eyebrows raised high.

Sam does a double take….obviously the kid's got an elephant like a memory. But – all he can do about it is roll his eyes.

Andy looks highly amused by the question; she laughs once and loud and comes out with a "I guess you could say that."

….

Sam brings the bags in a little while later to a very quiet house. His mother is in her studio resting, the kids and Rob out back with the dogs. He pauses just outside the kitchen when he hears the two soft voices chatting – doesn't want to eavesdrop but…nevertheless – for the life of him, he can't seem to move his feet.

"I'm assuming he told you just how much he missed you?" Sam hears Sarah's voice first.

There's a long pause after that, the only noise Sam can hear comes from a slight clattering of plates. He can't see either of them from where he's standing…and as guilty as his snooping makes him feel – he doesn't want to make his presence known.

"We've shared the feelings we've had over time…" Andy says softly. Sam's pretty confident that McNally would be able to pick up this isn't going to be an attack by Sarah…she should tell it's interest and care on his sisters part.

"I'm still sure it was the right decision…" Andy continues in the same gentle tone. "It gave me time to think through some things….and when I knew he was waiting….." Sam can hear McNally starting to get a little more passionate about the history; feels the lump form in his own throat. "I just…never doubted once…that we'd be together again….and that this would be _it._"

Sam wishes like anything he could see the expression on Andy's face right now – right in this moment. He bites his lip and closes his eyes to commit the words to his memory – this steady reassurance that _they_ are indeed _it_.

"I love Sam, Sarah," Andy's voice sounds like she's now smiling. "And I wanna be with him for the rest of my life."

Sam's heart practically jumps out of him – it's like time stops. He has to catch at the bag he's been holding and just nearly dropped.

Sam puts his hands up frantically to gesture _stop_ as he notices Rob walking in from the other direction; then he hears Sarah again.

"I'm happy to hear that, Andy….." she's serious when she says it. "Bet his badge on it that Sam would be too."

…..

Much, much later that evening when everyone's turned in for the night, Andy offers up Sam a massage – evidently noticing his back pain is still there.

She's hovering above him in the straddle position just north of his thighs; her fingers dealing long, slow, firm strokes that go all the way up and down his back.

(She gives good massage, McNally does; those strong but delicate hands of hers working at every one of his knots. They'd often take it in turns when they'd come off shift before – well, before things went south.)

Sam groans a little and reassures her of the good job she's doing now.

"I know before I left you said you'd do _everything_…but you know that's not how I want things to be, right?" Andy asks him softly, putting some kneading action into her strokes. "I mean…you've been going out of your way…and you're being wonderful…and….I appreciate the effort…" she talks in circles as her hands do the same thing.

"Andy," Sam stutters. "What I've been doing the last couple of weeks…it's nothing….it's a few steps to how I want things to be…" Sam almost wants to turn around and look her in the eye on this conversation that seems to be starting, but is wondering if the position they're in gives her some extra freedom to express –

"Yeah," Andy clears her throat. "But I know I can be a bit bratty…I know I can be stubborn and hard work."

"You're not hard work, sweetheart," Sam snorts out – cutting her off.

She pokes her fingers into his lower muscles, circles them around. "Okay, well all I'm saying is that I want you to know I'll do _whatever_ it takes too…"

Sam smiles to the pillow, reaches a hand down to slide along her calf. "Well, I'm impressed with how clean my house is ….if that makes you feel any better."

Andy _pffts_ and laughs. "That was me feeling guilty…s'like….I'm the only one that actually makes any mess." She rolls her hips light onto his. "Besides – der – least I can do after I consistently eat you out of house and home…use up all your hot water…and make you late every day…."

Sam rolls his eyes and squeezes his fingers into her leg. "Enough…I love having you there…okay…?"

Andy leans into kiss between his shoulders. She murmurs into his skin; "I just want you to know that I will always have _your_ back…in every way."

Sam does roll over on that particular sentiment; gets Andy under him. He looks her in the eyes and tells her: "We're in this _together_, agreed. United front?"

Andy nods back at him with a watery smile.

…

They lay side-by-side for the rest of the night talking quietly into the darkness; Andy asking him questions about his childhood – prodded by tidbits she'd obviously got from Sarah at some point while they were alone. It turns out Sarah did the hard yards – the stuff about her and their mother's attempt on her own life. Truth be told, he's fine with Sarah taking the initiative – he really does struggle to talk at length about all of this stuff.

"You ever see your foster family any more?" Andy asks, tracing patterns on his chest.

Sam shakes his head minutely. "They both passed away a few years back…and their kids were all a fair bit older…so we were never really close." Sam kisses Andy on the forehead. "They were good to me though…things could've been a whole lot worse." Sam makes a mental note to show her a few of his photos some time. There aren't many of him and Sarah as kids, but he figures it's the sort of thing Andy might like to see. They _don't_ talk about fathers; she knows his was in jail as much as he knows a few of the things that Tommy's been through.

She does however share the _other_ solo conversation she had with Sarah …just happens to omit the mention of _rest of my life._ He figures that's fair enough, anyway… she'll tell him in her own time – just like he'll find his.

Andy nudges her nose into his. "I am enjoying getting to know your family, you know?" She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and suggests: "We should make regular visits" –

"I'd like that too," Sam assures. And because time away and alone with McNally has been on his mind since back at that B&B –

"I also think we should make an effort to be away together occasionally…just us."

Sam can see McNally's smile in the darkness; he conjures up images of her in skinny bikinis, hiking boots, anything…. Hell, he's planning ahead in his mind right now – The Nash can look after Boo in terms of vacations that are designed just for the two of them….

"I'll get on a plane; you can take me camping…I don't even mind anymore," Sam advises her croakily. "Just…."

"Anywhere with you," Andy finishes with a bright voice that turns into a yawn. "Adventures that are only ours." She snuggles further into Sam's side and holds onto him tight.

….

They wake the next morning to a soft knock on the door.

Sam looks down to inspect himself and McNally, ensures they're both in a respectable state for company – whoever that may be. "Come in," Sam clears his throat as he nudges Andy's shoulder gently.

McNally lets out one of her _don't wake me_ groans.

"You and Andy want to come play a game of soccer?" Mason appears in the doorframe – with a ball in his hands.

Sam gives the boy a look of mock annoyance. "Do we get breakfast first?"

McNally wakes properly with the mention of food – she pats her hand across Sam until it lands on his face.

"Mum's cooking bacon and eggs now…if you want some of those," Mason suggests tentatively – like it is in anyway possible that Sam and Andy would _not_ be into that kind of thing.

McNally basically springs out of bed at the mention. "I'll go help," she declares in a bit of a fluster, rummaging around for something to put on her bottom half probably - is what Sam thinks.

She's nowhere near indecent; the shirt of Sam's that she's got on serves well as some sort of nightgown, but when she crouches it rides up a little – let's her boy shorts peek out.

Sam's watching her flap about – then catches Mason out of the corner of his eye; the kid is watching on pretty mesmerized too. Sam thinks back to the way Mason was delighted by everything McNally said and did yesterday as well; figures his nephew is crushing almost as hard as he is on his girlfriend right now.

Sam rolls himself out of bed; casually wanders over to where Mason is standing and gently turns the boy around by the shoulders to get him in the direction of the door. "We'll be down in a minute for breakfast," Sam jostles; "…and as for soccer – only if you go easy on us…we're both recovering from injuries, okay?"

Mason turns his face up at Sam and grins cheekily. "I can only try…it's hard for me to be not so good…" The statement comes out brassy, catching the attention of Andy – who promptly gives the boy her biggest smile.

When the kid is finally out the door, Sam clicks it shut softly and leans a hip against it. He watches Andy as she puts her hair up and realizes it's becoming more and more of a necessity for him that they have moments like this for the rest of their lives. "C'mere…" Sam instructs hoarsely.

McNally bites her lip and gives him a frowny type of smile. She does as he says though…pads over to him with an impish look on her face.

"Morning," Sam says to her quietly as he gets a hand on her face.

"Morning," Andy echoes at the same volume …gazing back up at Sam with a shy sort of smile.

He leans in the last couple of inches and kisses deep into her mouth. She whimpers back at him softly – keeps her hands firm on his chest.

…

"You're as pretty as Uncle Sam said," Emma informs McNally as Andy hands his niece some freshly squeezed juice.

Andy smirks at the girl suspiciously. "He tell you to say that?"

Emma shakes her head – her half done braid swinging to and fro. "Nuh-uh…" and then with all that tween attitude she's got she takes a sip at the juice before confirming: "I'm thinking generally speaking – that I like you."

"The world can rest easy, for she has spoken," Rob chimes in teasing – without looking up from the whatever's caught his attention in the newspaper.

Sam and Sarah stop with their spatula swordfight to listen in to the rest of the assessment of Andy.

Emma shrugs a shoulder high and leaves it there – puts a hand out to gesture something along the lines of _what I think actually does count_.

Andy grins and throws some more oranges in the juicer. "Well, if it matters at all…I'm likin' you too." She fills another couple of glasses and hands one to Sam.

Because Andy's put herself in the general vicinity, Sam prods her with the utensil he's got in his other hand and gives her a smile.

McNally smiles too – all signs suggesting that she feels completely relaxed. Her face turns a shade serious a few seconds later though. "Would it um….would it be okay if I took your mum her breakfast?" Andy looks between Sarah and Sam for the answer as she picks up the plate and the glass.

The question catches Sam off guard. He feels his jaw go slack. He turns to Sarah for the answer and notices his sister is looking just as surprised.

Sarah smiles one of her crooked ones eventually, "Actually….I think she'd really like that."

…..

Andy appears back at the breakfast table a good 10 minutes later - half her own breakfast gone cold. She sits and finishes it regardless; wipes at her mouth as she downs the rest of the juice. "We still on for soccer?" she asks the rest of the table – like she's known the Swarek's most of her life.

….

"What time you guys headed back?" Sarah asks a puffing Sam as he returns to the porch from the soccer game some time later.

Sam puts his hands on the railings and watches the melee between the kids, the dogs and Rob and Andy that is still taking place in the yard. "We'll take off just after lunch…hopefully get us back in Toronto before dark…give Andy some time to prepare for her first day back."

Sarah nods. "Pack your stuff so you're ready to go…I thought a picnic might be nice."

As Sam wipes his brow, Sarah catches his elbow. "She's…awesome…Sam." She gives him another one of her bear hugs before he can answer. "Happy that you're happy little brother," comes out muffled on his chest.

…..

Even Sam's mother joins the picnic – Sarah assuring her that it was an extremely peaceful spot unlikely to have anyone else around.

It is quiet too…just their whole brood and another couple that seem to want some privacy of their own.

The kids and Andy play Frisbee with the dogs intermittent with snacking and finding out what gossip they may have missed. McNally dumps herself once and for all on Sam's lap – finally conceding she's feeling a little worn out.

"You'll both come and visit again soon, won't you?" Sam's mother calls out softly from her fold-up chair planted well under the shade.

Sam and Andy turn to face her together, nodding. "I'd really love that," Andy smiles over to her before she shifts to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek.

….

It's after they've already waved the other Swarek car off and are disposing of the rest of the trash that Sam recognises one half of the couple that has decided it's time to head home too.

"Kate?" he calls out as the woman throws a picnic basket in the trunk of a car.

Kate swivels to face Sam directly – recognizing him instantly as well…despite being several yards away. She waves big and friendly. "Sam! Hi!"

Andy takes a couple of steps away from the truck to get a view of the interaction – and get herself a little closer to Sam.

Sam reaches for McNally's hand and tugs her the rest of the way into him. "Andy, this is one of Emma's teachers..Kate Preece.." he gestures toward the woman that's nearing them. "Kate, this is my girlfriend, Andy….Andy McNally."

Kate smiles warmly at the pair of them; holds her hand out to shake with Andy. They exchange some brief pleasantries before Kate turns her attention to Sam. "You were there for when Andy got back?"

"I was," Sam answers simply – smiling at Kate as he gives Andy's hand a firm squeeze.

"That's wonderful," Kate smiles big at them. She looks around - searching: "I'd introduce you to my new boyfriend, but it seems he may have taken a walk…"

Sam puts his arm around Andy. He grins at Kate to reassure her: "No doubt he'll be back."

…..

"Growing up I always wanted a brother or sister," Andy says in the quiet of the truck, round and about to them being halfway home.

Sam thinks about that – thinks for as tough and shitty as things were for him and Sarah…at least they did have one another…most of the time. "Someone who kind of knew what you were going through, right?" Sam speculates softly as he keeps a hand on her knee.

She shifts in her seat to look at Sam properly, seems happy – for want of a better word – that he knows what she meant. "Totally…." She nods at him. "Got pretty lonely at times." Andy looks back toward the windscreen as she says it – an increasingly pensive look on her face.

"Friends were friends on the surface 'cause you didn't want them knowing…everything…" it doesn't take a genius for Sam to know this is something pretty profound that they have in common. He reckons McNally would've always been popular, but – "my guess is you always did a lot of giving in relationships….and it's always been a little foreign to take…?"

Andy looks back at him with watery eyes. She puts a hand over his and whispers huskily: "I'm so glad you came into my life."

Sam smiles small at her. "Me too, Andy…me too." He wants to ease the density of the air in the truck, though...really wants things to come back to the here and now…

"On another note…" Sam squeezes at her hand. "My family is at least a little _punishing_….right?"

Andy rolls her eyes and snorts at him: "Maybe for someone who doesn't love you. But, you know…I'm pretty tough."

…..

"You want me to take you to yours?" Sam asks as they head into the city. He figures she may want to spend some time to do whatever she needs to get her head around going into her first day back.

(They've spoken a few times about her debriefings and trips to the departments psych…to Sam she's always sounded together and on top of things, but tomorrow might be a different kind of reality check -)

Andy bites her lip and stares at Sam without an answer.

"S'okay if you want to be alone for the night, sweetheart…you know…iron the uniform or do whatever _you _wanna do…"

She fidgets her fingers in her lap and Sam thinks he sees a blush. "Um…actually…it's hanging in one of your cupboards."

Sam turns his face ever so slightly and bites his own lip. He swallows after a while – and it was a damn big lump.

"I…um…can I spend tonight with you and Boo?" Andy fairly rattles out the words – shy or embarrassed, Sam doesn't even know –

"Jesus…Andy….of _course_," Sam stutters back at her. "I just…I just wanted to know what you wanted to do." And, because he doesn't think that's good enough – doesn't want it entering that pretty head of hers that he doesn't want the same thing: "I love being with you _every_ night."

McNally nods and rolls her shoulders. After a twenty second warm up in a similar fashion, she finally beams a smile at Sam. "I wanna wake up with you."

…..

They're tucking into take-out Chinese later when Andy points to the elephant in the room. "I know we've skirted around the topic a little….but…um…do we need to lay some new ground rules for how we work together?"

(Last time around the _only_ thing they clarified was a _hands-off_ approach. Even then, Sam's pretty sure that was only because memories of the Brennan repercussions were so fresh in both of their minds…)

Sam rolls his tongue over his lips and considers. "I think…with me being in a new role things will be different…to some degree…" He's not entirely sure though, actually. Just thinking about it now, he gets a little wobbly with thoughts of what they might face.

Andy takes a sip of her beer. She turns her attention to Boo, petting the dogs head – clearly has something in particular on her mind. "I'm sorry if it felt like I pulled the girlfriend card on you a few times…before."

"Andy…I don't think either of us handled our feelings for one another too well…" Sam clears his throat – puts his mouth to his own beer and takes a swig or two. "You know I respect you as a cop though, right?"

McNally nods. She lifts her head eventually. "Maybe we focus on our listening skills for starters?" The question comes with a small, good-natured grin.

Sam grins back at her, shifting his body so he's in her direct line of fire. "Our individual strengths balanced our partnership before…." Sam posits quietly. "We should remember that if anything looks like it'll get to us again…"

Andy's looking him square in the eye as he says it. "Partners who are partners…" she puts to him soft but firm as the grin breaks into a smile.

….

When she jumps into bed with him later that night it looks like she's moisturised and ready for the brand new day now.

Sam plucks at the shirt she's wearing. "Is this another one that you've stolen from me."

"Whatever," McNally smirks as she halfway pulls it off. "You like 'em on me."

Sam yanks it back down toward her hips. He gets his mouth on hers to tell her. "I do," Sam agrees without hesitation. "And I like when you let _me_ take it off."

Andy giggles at him as she rolls out of his grasp. "Before I let you have your way with me…" she reaches over to the drawer on the side table closest to her and pulls something out. "Your mum loaned me a couple of books…reminded me of how much you like to read." She smiles softly as she holds a book aloft.

"That what you two were holed up about down there this morning?" Sam asks surprised, reaching out some fingers to get a look at the book.

McNally nods and leans in for a kiss. "You read these ones to her when you were there last time?"

Sam's got the tome in his hands by now; notices it's a collection of O Henry short stories. "It's a thing I've done before when I had no other clue how to connect," Sam says soft as he's flicking through the pages and gets to where he wants.

Andy rolls until she's half on top of Sam. She leans over as she does it to give him a kiss. "Maybe we can read to one another sometimes?"

Sam chews the inside of his cheek – he feels stupidly shy at the thought. Still –

For this girl, he would do _anything_.

"S'long as you let me censor your suggestions." Sam winks up at her and gives a light pinch on her ribs.

Andy pokes her tongue out – but then gives him a gushy smile.

Sam doesn't take his eyes off her as he feels out the cat ear in the page. "You ready for some _Roads of Destiny_?"

…..

_AN: Sooo…obviously these two are cruising along in some sort of honeymoon mode at the moment. Up next: Andy's return to 15. Guess we'll see soon enough if that throws some sort of spanner in the works ;)_


	18. You Move Me

****_A/N: Thanks again to everyone for reading and reviewing... this story is drawing to somewhat of a close. (Way back when I decided to do chapter 2, I thought it'd max at 10 - suffice to say, I'm surprised I've pumped out this many words). I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you come back for more soon._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam rises early the next morning; figuring that running before work is a good thing to do.

When he gets back, he's surprised to see McNally showered and in the kitchen cooking up an omelette….or something of the sort. She's half talking to herself too. Well, it could be singing…but Sam's not real sure -

"Hey you," Andy smiles on a half turn. "How was your run?"

"Good…although looks like the weather's turning…could make your first day back on the streets…. interesting." Sam puts a hand on McNally's hip and leans in for a kiss. "Hmmm…that smells good." He's talking about her eggy concoction – but also the fresh scent of her washed hair, which is now lingering around his mouth.

"Wanna eat now, or are you showering first?" Andy points the spatula in his general direction and waves it up and down.

Sam grins at her and makes a grab for the spoon. "What? You don't think I should rock up to work hot and sweaty?"

Andy takes a couple of steps so she's right up and onto him - then proceeds to suck a mark on his neck. When she pulls away she gives him about the sexiest smirk from her that he's ever seen. "Well, _I_ wouldn't mind…" she says with an exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes. "But…I'm not so sure about Trace."

Sam kisses her again for her efforts and pulls away with a smile. "Let's eat together…I can be quick in the bathroom…especially since you won't be there."

McNally shakes her head but keeps an adorable grin on her face as she serves them up whatever the heck it is that she's cooked.

….

By the time Sam makes it downstairs, Andy is ready to go. She's fuelled up the travel mugs and has their bags at the door. She's tapping a rhythm into the kitchen bench though – making Sam guess that _something_ is up.

"You…ah…you ready for this, McNally?" Sam gets himself close behind her and puts his hands on her waist.

Andy keeps her fingers tapping for a while before she breaks whatever thoughts were occupying her mind. She clears her throat and nods her head.

It's when she gets in the truck that she confesses: "Little nervous that the whole place might've changed…" She's flicking through the presets as she says it – if Sam wasn't sitting beside her, he'd assume she was talking to herself.

He shifts to face her; gets his hand up on the back of her seat. "You know that _is_ sorta the case, right? You've been through this with the psych…" He's actually wondering now if he should've spoken more to her about….well, about the _detail_ of coming back into 'original' life. In fact, he's trying not to let her nerves freak him out –

He's hoping like anything here that this past two weeks hasn't just been some sort of grand mirage. "Six months, Andy…" Sam prods softly. "I've changed, you've changed, everything has changed…even if it is just the smallest of amounts…"

McNally inspects her face in the rear-view mirror and then looks over to Sam. She closes her eyes and breathes in and out a while. "I know…and change can be good…right?"

"Otherwise you die, according to Ollie," Sam says half seriously – but with a reassuring nod. "And... underneath anything that _is_ different...you're still McNally: the cop."

Andy cranks her neck from side to side like a boxer about to enter a world title fight. She stretches out her arms and knots her fingers to give her knuckles a good crack. "Let's do this then."

...

Sam releases Andy's hand at the locker rooms to let her go get changed. He yanks at her belt loops before she can get through the door though; rubs his hands up and down her arms to test how calm those nerves have gone. "Take your time..." Sam says quietly, looking at his watch. "Unless you're longer than 20 minutes, you won't be late for Parade."

Andy nods her head in rapid beats – is still nodding when she pushes to her toes and gives Sam a quick kiss on the cheek.

...

Sam's sitting up the back of the room with Nash discussing weekends when McNally and Collins walk in together to hollers and applause.

He smiles and winks at her as she turns and_ gestures_ enough to the crowd. Sam notices the blush on her face as she does it – but also notices the mildly amused smirk to suggest she feels pretty proud.

They take a seat smack in the centre down the front, McNally and Collins...unusual only in that there's not another soul that is occupying that row.

Out of the corner of Sam's eye, he catches the way Nash's eyebrows rose – and the way Peck beside her gave a bit of a frown. For what it's worth, Sam doesn't think it's that unusual that McNally and Collins might lean on one another this next week or so at work – still...it irks him a little to know there could be times when it's Nick who knows how to make something better for her.

Sam _is_ surprised, however, when Frank hands out the assignments; he thought (hoped) McNally might be paired with Shaw – familiarity to ease her back into a routine. It's Cruz she's landed with, as it turns out - another prompt to raise the eyebrows of Nash.

McNally swivels in her seat to look at Cruz – who happens to be a couple of rows and directly behind her in the company of Noelle and Shaw. Sam doesn't say or do anything...but he does blink once or twice.

...

"See you in 5?" Nash says to Sam out of the corner of her mouth as he leans outside the door at Parade.

Sam nods...and waits. From where he is he can see McNally and Collins whispering and throwing some serious hand gestures about. (Sam doesn't know what Collins' problem might be – he scored big time when Frank gave him Shaw).

Eventually, Collins coasts past Sam with a pleasant "Sir," and a smile.

Andy follows closely behind – clearly trying to neutralise what was once upon a time a dark expression on her face. She stops just short of running face first into Sam, but practically treads on his toes. "It's fine," is what she gives to him, obviously placing some assumptions on what may be his concern.

Sam quirks an eyebrow at her and shoves his hands in his pockets; a thing he needs to do to prevent himself from doing something _else_. "I...ah...just wanted to say have a…. safe shift." He keeps his voice low and quiet and what he thinks is roughly the right balance between caring boyfriend and colleague...but, seriously, whoever knows –

McNally looks up to him then, a twitch on her mouth. "I..." She looks for the world like she's searching for clever comebacks, before she settles on: "I will." She grabs two of his fingers discreetly and squeezes - but then leans in for a kiss.

Sam gives her the last centimetre before they hear a firm voice: "McNally...let's go."

...

Nash and Sam are dotting i's and crossing t's on the arsenic and lunch case when Best pops his head in to request one of them head to a scene. With the mention of the report coming from Cruz, Sam bites his lip.

"I can take this one...if you prefer?" Nash doesn't look up at him – doesn't have to; she was staring before.

Sam sits in silence for a minute not wanting to answer – even though he really, really does want to go. "Yep. I'll stay here and finish off this."

...

"Well, that was weird," Nash says as she hands over a sandwich – just back from taking a look at whatever Cruz and McNally have stumbled upon.

Sam takes a look in the brown paper bag and slides it back to her, holding his hand out for the one she's got in her hand. "As bizarre as this ridiculous obsession with mustard that you've got?"

Nash checks on what he's talking about by lifting up the bread – screws up her nose and hands over what he hopes is a less offensive item. She shrugs her shoulders up high and leaves them there. "A bank robbery that no one noticed... apparently."

Sam lets out a "huh?" as he chews into some bread – wonders if the reality of the case is as intriguing as it sounds.

The facts, according to Nash, are pretty damn sketchy; security guards rocking up to the branch this morning to find one safe with a large hole drilled into it and all the cash gone.

"What...a bank that's too broke to invest in alarms?" Sam asks half-joking, finally taking his eyes off his sandwich to look Nash in the face.

Traci shrugs some more and flicks through her phone. "Nothing was triggered – no signs of entry or escape."

Sam nods and guesses the obvious – "inside job?"

Nash keeps on with the shrugging, which in itself is getting Sam a little amused. "That's Andy's immediate thinking..." she keeps her eyes on her phone – avoiding Sam as she bites her lip. "Marlo is emphatic about that _not_ being the case."

Sam frowns. Obviously there needs to be an investigation but he has no idea why Cruz would be resistant to the idea...

"She's seen something like this before...not long ago." Nash finally presses a number on her phone as she speaks to Sam.

Sam rolls his own shoulder into a shrug and nods; he reasons that's fair enough – any avenue explored will only serve to make the case robust. "Need a hand?" Sam asks – hoping in equal amounts that Nash responds with both a yes and a no.

"Leave it with us a while..." Nash replies with a fist over the speaker, shaking her head. "Andy – any of the staff worth bringing in?" she asks into the phone.

...

Sam watches out the glass in the direction of McNally stomping through the building at the end of the day. He scrubs at his face some before he shuffles his papers about and puts the files away.

He's standing outside the locker room having the longest internal debate in the history of mankind when Cruz brushes past. She's got a stern look about her and is...definitely in a rush to get out.

Sam teeters over the threshold. He sucks a breath all the way into the room...nervous about what he may find. Sam feels all the way relieved as he spots her -

McNally's on a bench doing up her laces; her hair is washed and her bag is by her side.

Sam scratches at his head...then his neck...then his chest...before clearing his throat to ask: "How was your first day back?"

"Fine," she replies curtly – before thudding her foot on the bench.

Sam sort of feels like laughing, but has no idea how serious whatever the problem is that might have gone down.

He takes a seat next to her and decides to avoid the topic a while. "Wanna go to The Penny?" Sam is conscious about using this calm and cool tone – banks on her _not_ taking the bullshit out on him anytime soon.

Andy lets out a loud, noisy breath. She looks Sam in the eye – eventually...and gives him at least the hint of a friendly sort of grin. "I could probably use a drink."

Sam gets up first; in doing so he reaches a hand out and pulls her with him –

Then takes advantage of the momentum and gives her a hug.

...

They split up just inside the door; Andy up on her toes and telling Sam's ear she's going over to say hello to Gail and Nick.

Sam heads to the bar as he spots Ollie – who happens to be perched up on a stool next to Cruz.

...

"You're girlfriend gets a little bossy, huh?" Marlo smirks as Sam takes the first sip of his drink.

He strains not to cough the liquid out. He manages, but only just – and only with the help of Ollie rubbing his back. Sam looks sideways at Cruz and wonders _what the hell_ –

"I know she's a bit of a golden girl around here...but...well...she might just want to remember some of us have been around longer – and have genuine expertise in the field..." Cruz is talking in all seriousness; giving Andy a dressing down – vicariously through Sam.

Sam is, well –

Sam is a little shocked and a lot annoyed is what he is right now.

"Okay, woah up." Sam says quietly – trying to avoid the gaping mouth of Shaw. "Firstly; I came here to relax – not get in a stand-up to defend the honour of my girlfriend." Sam takes a step off his stool as he tries to cool his simmering. "Secondly; if we were back at the barn I'd advise you to discuss any issues you have with Officer McNally..._with_ Officer McNally...who is...just so you're up to speed...an excellent cop."

The eyebrows of Cruz go up and down a few times. It looks like she's going to step up to the plate and say...more... but then she looks at Ollie - whose eyes have gone alien wide. She puts her empty glass down on the bar and finishes with a statement that's half under her breath: "Evidence suggests she's also pretty good at making mistakes."

It's a split second instant – Sam's pretty sure if she was a guy he would have hit her, in a flash the least he wants to do is yank at her braid as she walks away. He's still huffing and puffing deciding the best course of action -when McNally nears his side.

"Everything okay?" Andy asks – who is _now_ apparently relaxed and happy – as she glances with a perplexed look between Shaw and Sam.

Sam spits out a "fine," then swills the rest of his drink.

...

"I'll walk you tomorrow, I promise, I promise, I promise," McNally chants to Boo as they walk through Sam's front door.

The dog's circling them with excitement – giving Sam even more of a head spin. Sam stops still in the spot for a moment, letting Andy and Boo fawn over one another as he considers whether or not to bring up the incident with Cruz -

"You want some food?" Andy asks tugging at Sam's shirt, without a care in the world.

"You and Cruz have a run in today?" Sam says, not budging – but...in a casual enough voice.

Andy screws up her nose and switches her smile to a frown. "Ugh. She tell you about it – or did Trace?"

Sam blinks a few times conjuring up thoughts about what Nash might've witnessed without telling him. "Cruz gave me an earful at The Penny," Sam responds finally – trying to sound a little bemused.

The dark, annoyed expression that McNally is famous for crosses her face. "What does she think _you_ have to do with the case?"

Sam's eyes widen – _really,_ that's the top of her list on what bothers her about what he's just said? He can't help but get a little defensive about this. "McNally. Seriously? You do realize that I may end up helping out with the case...don't you?"

Andy's whole body jerks in reply. She narrows her eyes accusingly. "Are you taking her side?" her voice is getting pitchy – and on the other side of loud.

_What the...?_ "When the hell did I actually say _that?"_ Sam retorts, his own voice going up just a notch.

McNally takes a step back from him and puts her hands on her hips.

Sam takes one back too – and crosses his arms.

For the bystander it might be an amusing stand-off, but to Sam it is not. He wants her to be the one to play back this short conversation and to realize how ridiculous the conclusion is that she just jumped to – but from where he's standing right now, it doesn't look like she's going to budge an inch.

The dog is now sitting in the centre – his eyes moving between Sam and Andy like he's at a tennis match.

McNally glances down at Boo - then looks back to Sam. After an eternity she breathes out a long sigh. She bites her lip and looks a shade embarrassed. "What did she say?" Andy asks Sam quietly as she drops her hands from her hips.

Sam cocks his head to the side to motion they should take this to the kitchen - and gives her the smallest of grins.

...

"It's like she point blank refused to listen to me, Sam." Andy whines as she puts a forkful of chicken in her mouth.

Sam wipes at his mouth with a serviette and leans back in his chair. "At the risk of being shot down...again..." he says gently, trying to catch her eye; "I get that must've been frustrating...but...were you taking time to listen to anything she had to say?"

Andy raises her eyebrows and gets a scowl on her face. She chews some more at her poultry, leaving Sam anxious and in limbo until she softens her look. "Maybe not as close as I should've been?" Andy gets another pained expression on her face as she puts her fork down. "Still...bet I'm right."

Sam smirks at her, teasing. "I really hope so."

...

"Um...thanks for standing up for me back at the bar..." Andy murmurs as she leans down to suck a mark onto Sam's collarbone.

(He gave her a blow-by-blow description of the interaction with Cruz on her insistence in the kitchen – something that bought about an attempt by Andy to get his clothes off right then and there).

"Cruz was being unfair," Sam groans out with half a breath as Andy gives him some teeth.

Sam musters up the strength to roll her over so she's underneath him after a while –

He pushes her hair out of her face to kiss her there softly, and runs his other hand down to her waist.

...

A couple of days later, it turns out that it's Cruz that could be right; another bank done over and not a single lead. The bank in question is completely unrelated to the one from the other day -

"No doubt you'll run it past Frank..." Cruz says - hand on hip to Nash and Sam. "But I think we need both of you as a resource." She huffs and puffs at them somewhat aggravated as McNally sits on Sam's desk clicking one of his pens.

(Andy's been doing that a lot this past couple of days actually; any chance she can get she'll check in on either he or Nash.)

Sam and Nash nod slowly together, conceding it's time to step things up – avoid _too_ much collateral damage –

"You coming, McNally?" Cruz barely looks at Andy as she calls her and walks out the door.

Andy has a truly miserable look about her. She glances over her shoulder to give Nash an eyebrow ...and Sam a pout.

Sam sighs and scratches at his chin. He finds himself beyond irritable about the fact that there is a possibility that Andy isn't right.

...

Nash and Sam get to the second bank to find Cruz and McNally going toe to toe...again; Andy gesturing wildly while Cruz just stands and glares with her hands on her hips.

"Do me a favour and distract Marlo?" Sam asks Nash under his breath as they approach.

Traci's actually pretty clever about it he notices – takes Cruz aside while Sam throws some rubbish in the bin.

Sam takes his chance and jostles Andy so they're standing just inside the bank; enough so he can monitor Cruz and Nash – but still be out of earshot. He didn't know what he was going to say to Andy, but figures she has her reasons for taking a particular path. In the end, Sam is thankful for what comes out of his mouth: "McNally, aside the obvious...give me a rundown on what made you think the first one was an inside job."

Andy gets the stern look off her face as he finishes the sentence, replaces it with that look she gets when she backs herself...or him. "In the first instance...it was just how...off...it all felt. The security on that first place was _tight,_ Sam. Really, really tight." She looks around to check where Marlo is. "But – I did listen to her, okay. She told me about the couple of gangs she knew of – how they had similar trademarks to this."

Sam points his chin in the direction of the bank backrooms. "And your gut on this one?"

"I know it might sound ridiculous, but it's the same sort of...feeling." Andy twists her braid in her hand. She's got more ticks than ever before – Sam is still trying to get a feel for most of them.

He bites his lip as he watches her – is wanting like crazy – for whatever reason – just to give her a kiss. "You said none of the last lot of staff appeared to have anything to hide...what about this mob?"

McNally rolls her eyes – but it's obviously not about Sam. "Cruz won't let me talk to them – wants to do it herself."

Sam squints and leans to see if Nash is still holding things up. "The security company for either bank? Any connections there?"

McNally's eyes go dinner plate huge and she barely holds in a gasp. "It was a different security guard at this bank this morning...but it's the same company." She looks super excited all of a sudden, is bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Sam, that's _got_ to be it…."

Sam puts a hand out to calm her – stops just short of touching her waist and calling her sweetheart. "Slow it down," he says softly. "Might not be anything..."

McNally's off and shaking her head though. "We questioned them...but not nearly enough...both guys _seemed_ genuine...like they were really shocked." She's looking around like she's about to be caught herself; giving Sam a series of off-stage whispers that would be well and truly loud enough for the audience to hear. "Let's go talk to their boss though, huh?" Andy for all the world looks like she's primed and ready to bolt.

It gives Sam flashbacks to Taxi Drivers and Bars, Jerry and Peck. Sam does make a grab for her then – gets his hands to both sides of her shoulders and sticks her to her place. At least in part, Sam thinks his hold on her might be to steady the giddiness he currently feels. He takes a couple of breaths in deep and goes about focusing his eyes on hers.

"McNally. Wait." Sam instructs after a long time. "Let's get this all out in the open – see what Nash and Cruz think too?"

Andy wiggles her shoulders a little so he has to let go. She looks him up and down for a while; finally sees through his struggle and tilts her face down to cast her eyes away from him.

Sam shakes his head to clear it – "I think we _could_ be onto something, I think _you_ were on the right track." He bends his knees to find her eyes. "Andy, all I'm asking is that we include the whole team on this brainwave, okay?" Sam keeps his voice as firm as he can and decides not to budge on this.

McNally looks around to watch Nash and Cruz again. She eventually gives a rapid nod to Sam and a supportive "yes, of course."

...

The four of them decide fairly harmoniously to get some of the other officers in on the act; Cruz will head to Guns and Gangs to get an update on where they're at with the bandits she thinks are responsible, while Shaw and Collins will continue backtracking with both banks' staff.

Marlo gives Sam an eyeroll when he suggests McNally go with he and Nash to start sniffing around the security company. "It's because of her that we're taking this lead," Sam explains to Cruz without getting stressed.

Nash agrees by nodding. "Let's all get together again in a few hours back at 15".

Sam pauses a second as he sees Cruz deliberating. "You want someone to go with you to Guns and Gangs?" It's hardly the situation Jerry was in, but Sam really doesn't want any fellow officer to feel left out in the lurch.

Cruz shakes her head looking a little bemused. "I've got someone I want to catch up with on other matters anyway. Happy for you lot to go off and chase your own tails." Marlo isn't too nasty when she says it, though – she just smirks and brushes Sam off.

...

"We did _good_ today, huh?" Andy says smugly as she wraps her arms around Sam in his kitchen later that night.

(They were on the money with the security mob; turned out that whilst the guards on duty the next morning had nothing to do with it- some intensive interviewing revealed the CEO was behind the whole thing. Andy felt even more justified when it was revealed he was having affairs with two staff members – one from each bank.)

Sam dabs some tomato paste on her nose before he continues with brushing the lasagne sheets. "Uh-huh." She giggles loud when he leans in and licks it off.

Sam turns his attention back to the kitchen bench and leaves Andy to keep with the bouncing rhythm she's got on her toes.

She reaches from behind and gets her hands to his chest after a while – plants her warm face between his shoulder blades...and sighs.

"You know we could have been wrong?" Sam says finally, still feeling just the slightest bit annoyed – even though he doesn't know exactly why.

(Cruz wasn't that wrong either; G&G about to make a bust for a strikingly similar robbery that UC intel says is planned for next week.)

"Uh-huh," she mimics back at him – then runs her hands down to his hips. "But we weren't...'cause we're awesome..." And –

She's giving some pretty clear signals here; turned on by the two of them chasing bad guys together – especially when they're on the same page.

Sam turns and tugs at her hands. He looks at her face carefully – swallows hard as he notices the way her pupils have blown. Sam feels a little awkward about the '_what'_ and '_why'_ she wants from him here. He knows he wouldn't usually; knows that was a part of the attraction in the first place – how well they click...when they click on the job.

_Fuck –_

Even now his body can barely help itself.

"We're not always going to be right, Andy. No matter how good we are." He speaks to her calmly...but there's something else that's bugging him here. He just can't quite put his finger on it –

Yet.

"Okay," Andy snorts. "But…_today_ we did good, right?" She's looking at him suspiciously…clearly knows he's got something else going on up there.

Sam feels the last of his doubt drain away as she smiles at him curiously and runs a hand down his centre –

"Yeah," he smiles back at her. Sam wraps his arms around her and whispers to her hair: "Working together again was pretty damn great".

…..

It's a few days after the bank robbery stuff that Sam finally puts his finger on exactly what his…doubt…is.

Andy and Shaw are just back from working speed traps – the last 10 minutes being a pack up in heavy rain. They arrive at 15 _drenched_, Peck poking a finger at them…highly amused.

Sam was already packed up and ready to leave - has been sitting between Nash and Peck for the last 5 minutes mediating an argument that he knows nothing about…_Celebrity gossip…seriously…he doesn't even care_.

McNally glares at Peck before she continues on toward the locker room - the scowl a permanent fixture on her face.

Sam sits there wondering whether to go after her. He stands and faces the general direction, but struggles to take the next step.

"You guys gonna come to The Penny?" Nash asks with an elbow.

Sam just gapes his mouth at her – looks concerned back in the direction Andy went: "I…really don't know…"

…..

Turns out McNally doesn't know what she wants either; changing her mind about The Penny when they pull into the parking lot.

When they get back to his, she leashes the dog and waltzes to the door without asking if Sam wants to join them: "Just gonna take Boo for a walk."

And not that Sam minds that – they've both agreed to take some time alone when they think they need it – it's just…he feels a little helpless around her when she says nothing about what the problem might be…

(Yep. Okay, universe. He gets it now…how she must've felt before when he pushed her away…)

He prepares them some dinner regardless, figures she'll be back within the hour and hungry – so it's the least he can do.

It's a little over an hour later when he gets her text. _We walked to mine._ _Going to stay here the night – too tired to walk back._

Sam bites the inside of his lip hard. Really hard. He punches at the speed dial and knocks the phone to his ear. "I'll come pick you up. I made us some dinner," he says quickly – doesn't give her the chance to talk. Even to his own ears he sounds pretty annoyed.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Sam…I didn't think…" Andy replies softly, but with a little hint of some terse.

"You wanna talk about whatever's going on?" Sam queries – trying to cool off his tone…not completely successful.

There's a patch of silence for a while before McNally responds to him. "I'm fine, Sam. I really am… I think I'm just a bit tired."

For the first time in two weeks, Sam feels…shit scared. He has no idea what's going on with her, and the voice she's using barely sounds like herself. There's a void there; a hollowness to it that he thinks he might have only ever heard once or twice –

"I'll come over; bring you the food…" Sam hedges, trying to quell the plead that's rising in the back of his throat.

He's met with some silence again though. And finally a croak; "Might be best if I just hang out alone tonight…" Then as though to explain: "I'm not very good company…it's been a shitty day."

Sam feels a little gutted that she doesn't want to be around him when she's like this. He wracks his brain trying to think of something that will make her feel better but comes up with zilch. In his confused state of mind the best he can do is try to assure her. "Okay…" he starts hesitantly. "But if you change your mind you call me…any time."

"Okay," Andy replies soft and immediate. "And don't worry – I'll take good care of Boo."

Sam closes his eyes thinking of the two of them there…and him here; he might as well be thousands of miles away. "See you..tomorrow, sweetheart.." Sam says to the phone – like he's barely hanging in there.

"Night, Sam," is followed by the click of her ending the call.

…

Sam stands in the kitchen – just looking around the place and taking in the emptiness. Everything is so, so quiet and lifeless…and he's never felt more alone.

It's then that the penny drops –

He wraps the dinner plate before him, grabs his keys off the table and heads for the door.

He wants at least a few answers…even if they need to be obtained with a fight.

….

When he gets to her door he decides against letting himself in – the key she gave him a week ago is frozen stiff in his hand.

She answers his knock in pyjamas – and a look of surprise on her face.

"Adrenalin worn off?" Sam asks suddenly, like she'll know how to fill in all the blanks.

Andy takes a heavy step back from the door and screws up her face. "_What_?" She stares at him like he's just grown two heads.

_Shit _–

The thing that's been bugging him – the thing he's been through himself; the way she's been all antsy and chasing a thrill. He _knows_ that damn feeling – knows it too well. "I'm askin' if you're gonna be okay on any other day when you get stuck with the speed camera and traffic stops…stuff that's not as exciting as drug busts and bank robberies…that sort of stuff." Sam says it in a rush, but gives some emphasis on the key words just to make his point.

Andy crosses her arms. "Sam. What on earth is this about?" She's switched into cop mode now; Sam is the perp.

He's only just managed to get inside the door but knows there's no way he'll be taking a step back.

He pushes the dinner plate toward her and tries to re-jig his brain. "You've been…I dunno…a little too _up_ since you got back to work." Sam shrugs all about the place; he knows he didn't start at the start and he's probably not making enough sense.

Andy's jaw drops – like the penny that probably just did in her head. "I've been doing my _job_…Sam. And I've been doing it well."

Sam nods furiously. "Yep, absolutely." He clears his throat and walks toward her kitchen with the plate she refused to take from him. He turns a fast and full 180 when he gets near the bench. "But tonight you're feeling shitty because of how... ordinary…life can be."

McNally's still got her arms crossed and is now looking him up and down. But –

She casts her eyes away for a beat – like she's just been sprung. "You don't trust me not to leave for some big taskforce again…" It doesn't come out of her as an accusation, more…disappointment…or something of the sort.

Sam shakes his head and walks to her – gets his hands circled around each of her wrists. "It's not that…Andy…" He slides his fingers down to hook into hers. "I just know how…mundane…some things can seem after you've achieved what you just achieved…" Sam struggles some more to find other words. "But it's times like this Andy when I want to do whatever it takes to remind you of how extraordinary it still is..."

McNally's tearing up a little as he says it. Slowly, she nods her head.

"S'okay, sweetheart…s'okay…" Sam tells her fairly breathlessly. "It's normal that it takes a while to find **your** new…beat…" He looks her in the eyes, wills her to get his drift. "It's what **we** will be striving for too…after all these downs and ups **we've** had…how things have been this past couple of weeks; that feeling that neither one of us wants to end…."

Andy bites her lip and closes her eyes as she clings to his fingers and tilts her head back.

Sam moves another step into her, his face hovering to bump at her nose. "But we promised we'd do it _together_…." Sam tells her softly, giving her the lightest touch of a kiss. "I've never been lonely before…but I am when I'm not with you."

Andy opens her eyes again – the tears are still in her eyes. "I.." she goes to say something but Sam shakes his head.

"Whatever you go through…whatever I go through…I want us to walk it together – every step of the way." Sam is becoming more and more a man on a mission, his heart racing like never before. "I want to go to sleep with you every night. I want to wake up with you every morning…"

Sam thinks he could be running out of voice or time here, he really doesn't know. He just wants to _be_ with her –

"I know we're still pretty messy. I know we've far from got this…us… sorted…" Sam unravels their fingers and gets his hands to her face. He wipes at the tears on her cheeks. "I love you, Andy…it's about all I do know for certain…" and then he takes the leap:

"Move in with me."

Andy's mouth opens and closes – a good few times. Her eyes have gone very, very wide like he's just shocked the hell out of her…and her cheeks are a pretty pink. "You wanna live with me?" she manages eventually, her eyebrows gone all the way high. "You and me and Boo shacked up together and not looking back?" She leaves her mouth open –

And then she starts to smile. "We're all gonna be living with one another's crap?" She asks like she's double checking Sam's sanity. "We're committing to that…"

"Jesus, McNally," Sam interrupts her. "Is this your way of saying yes?" He can hear Boo come out from her bedroom; the dog letting out a long and low groan.

Andy starts laughing then – that real warm and genuine laugh. She launches herself into Sam's arms and tucks her legs around his hips. "Yes!" she squeaks at his ear. "Yes, I'll live with you," Andy declares again super happy, planting a thousand small kisses on his face.

Sam gets a hand at the back of Andy's neck and pulls her mouth to his for once and for all. He kisses all the way into her - despite the half laugh he's doing himself.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she giggles. "Even though you're a freak."

Sam pinches her lightly on the waist; he feels a bit delirious about what he might've just gotten himself into, actually. "You are," Sam teases as he nips at her jaw.

Andy nods and smirks down at him. "Well. At least we're one another's freak."

Sam grins big and open back at her. He really does love her the most absurd amount. He keeps his eyes fixed on hers as he takes some long, slow strides to head them in the general vicinity of the bedroom.

* * *

_A/N There will be an Epilogue before I mark this story complete...it's also possible this version of Sam/Andy/Boo and the gang will write themselves into other stories before Season 4 begins._


	19. You're the light, I'll find my way home

A/N Big thanks to Hawley over at TWC for the tips on neighbourhoods in Toronto and those awesome links. The fountain of knowledge you provided, found Sam and Andy their house (well, this version of it, anyway!) All going well, a sequel will feature more detail still.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam is leaning against the railing of the porch and smiling over the scene in the back yard when Nash moseys on up and bumps a shoulder into one of his own.

"She seriously cannot get that ridiculous grin off her face," Nash tells Sam as she looks in the direction he's got his eyes gazing upon. "Gets bigger every time anyone barely mentions your name."

Sam tries to reorganize his features so as not to give too much away in terms of just how…happy…that makes _him_ feel.

"Brother, this reminds me!" That's Ollie they hear – a noise without a face that comes from somewhere in the vicinity of some shrubs up the back. "Can I borrow your mower for the next few days?" Sam really has no idea where Shaw is, or what he's doing – all he can think is Ollie's impressed with the yard.

(It was one of the selling points, actually. The house may still need some work, but the backyard is somewhat of an oasis that includes some decking and enough lawn for Boo. The couple before them had obviously enjoyed their gardening, an activity that Andy also seems to have been inspired by this past week or two-)

"You think he'll ever be done with snooping about?" Sam mutters to Nash, tipping his chin toward the offence that is Ollie.

Nash bumps her shoulder to Sam again. "Are you serious?" She casts her eyes across the yard – possibly doing a roll count of everyone else. "Pretty sure your crap combined with Andy's crap makes this joint a looters dream."

(Well, they have got some stuff…that's for sure; this eclectic mix of his and hers – that somehow manages to be a perfect balance of anything they might need to make it a…_home. _The house is just that little bit bigger than what they each had last time around, so all in all neither of them ended up donating off that much of what they already owned. And –

Sam doesn't even know what it means, but somehow they even have similar taste.)

Sam turns his face to inspect Nash. He's not entirely displeased with her observations of the new living arrangements of himself and Andy and Boo. Still –

He sticks an elbow gentle into her ribs. "Thanks again for the housewarming gift…"

(Nash has a bit of an obsession with capturing images of the McNally-Swarek's. She's forever pointing her phone or a camera in their face. "Ugh. You're both so photogenic. Seriously, I'm positive you're the best looking duo around." Sam remembers her telling them that sometime after she took the shot she gave them today –

It's a black and white image, enlarged and framed. Sam had McNally hoisted up and was swinging her around after 15 took the basketball trophy. Both of them were hot and sweaty, but Sam couldn't help himself – McNally had just scored the winning hoop and practically launched herself at him anyway.

He loves the shot. Both of them dressed for action and with the hugest grins on their faces. Taking a good look at the photo when Nash handed it over today, he realized they were both gazing at one another like there wasn't another soul in the world).

"My pleasure. I wanted to give you guys something you could hang on a wall…something that reminds you of the good times…." She's pretty serious when she says it; it's warm and genuine and slightly wistful -

"You and Diaz, are an _actual_ thing…huh?" Sam smiles small - interrupting to inspect her face. He's wondering about how happy Nash herself is right now.

Nash grimaces with some friendly good humour and lets out a _hmmm_ that to Sam's ears still has a question mark. "It's not…I dunno, Sam…it's not like it was with Jerry." Her shoulders sink a little and she casts her eyes down. "We enjoy hanging out…but, yeah…I don't know where to from here." She doesn't sound unhappy all-in-all, just – confused?

Sam wraps an arm around her shoulder and rubs it over once or twice. He doesn't know what to say here – they both still miss Jerry, despite the time that has passed. He just knows he wants Nash to be happy - really happy. Like he is. "You'll figure it out," he assures her gently – and he knows she will; Nash is one of the best and brightest eggs that Sam's ever known.

As he turns his face back in the direction of the yard, he catches the eye of Andy who has been in deep conversation for some time now with Collins and Peck. She cocks her head and smiles at him; doesn't take her eyes off him as she heads toward joining he and Nash on the porch.

"You guys gonna come down and join the party?" Andy grins from a couple of steps beneath them. "Or, is this like, a private detective convention?"

("I love that you're good friends with my best friend…" McNally declared a couple of months back, on their way back from a dinner with Nash.)

Sam rolls his eyes and slides off the railing to stand before her. "Nash was just filling me in on how impressed you are with my home decorator ideas." He gets an arm around Andy's waist and walks both the girls to where most of the action is.

….

_It took them a good few months to find this place - days and nights of splitting their living between his place and hers._

_"Ugh. Sam…should we just, like. Choose between one we already have?" _

_Both of them got a little over the house hunting at different points, actually; nothing felt quite right, but –_

_In the throes of making love one rainy Sunday they decided to keep looking; concluding that sooner or later they'd find the right fit._

_The house of their dreams as it happened, came about by chance; Andy and Epstein charged with delivering some intel over to division 55 one day. She spotted the "Private Sale" sign out the front of the semi-detached on Highfield after Epstein took a wrong turn-_

_Sam got an image of the exterior over his phone – accompanied by ! and a question mark. _

_They made arrangements to look at it the next day – _

_The partial restoration that had already been done showed the potential for more. A living area, a bedroom, and the kitchen are spectacular...and both Sam and Andy had other points on the wish-list checked off. (For her it was the light and wood and high ceilings, for Sam it was the garage and basement – complete with its own bathroom and potential for an extra family space.) The debate then and now is exactly where to start -_

_Irrespective of differing priorities, Sam and Andy managed to shake hands with the owner as an informal agreement right there on the spot._

_…._

_Just over a month after that they were moved in._

_And for two people that had often lived in temporary states and open boxes, their unpacking was swift and harmonious – except for the toe-to-toe arguments of exactly where to put the couch and the bed. (As it was, they tested out both…in several positions…until both of them were 100% satisfied with the place they were in). Still -_

_The permanency both of them felt was immediate – this real solid feeling - like it was home._

_"Can we invite everyone over to celebrate immediately?" Andy asked that night – blowing some bubbles at Sam from the white froth in the bath they were sharing._

_Sam grinned crooked at her, an eyebrow up high. "You want 15 to crash the party we've got going on right now?"_

_Andy smirked back and wiggled her backside until it was up in his lap; "Hmmm…second thoughts: let's wait a week…"_

….

A fortnight later was what they decided. Enough time to give _everyone_ notice….as well as themselves.

They've spent the whole day today preparing: an adventure all in itself.

("No. There…" Andy pointed to three different spots in the backyard before she let Diaz and Epstein put the damn marquee up.

Peck stood back and rolled her eyes. "How did you even live with her 6 months?" she poked at Collins, who was helping Sam to unload some tables and chairs from the truck.

In the end though, the yard looked fantastic; fairy lights spanning the porch and brown paper bag lanterns dotting pathways across the yard. The marquee was decorated simply enough with fresh flowers from the gardens of all those invited, and a bunch of other quirky lanterns and candles that McNally has been collecting along the way).

….

"Sammy, you want us to start putting the meat on?" Tommy McNally calls out from the barbeque now, Rob and Frank by his side debating best marinades.

Sam runs his hand across Andy's back and whispers in her ear. "You keep the crowd entertained, I'll check on the troop in the kitchen." He waves a 5 to Tommy and heads to where he knows Sarah and Noelle are tossing salads, that sort of thing.

As he walks away he hears McNally tell Nash and Peck; "Sam and I baked last night…and this time we didn't almost set the place on fire."

(No, they didn't burn the cupcakes. They did however end up with flour and icing sugar all over the kitchen floor and one another…again).

…..

"T minus 2 and counting, Sammy," Noelle gives a dimpled grin to Sam as she spots him.

Sarah bustles about between the bench and the fridge, bowls flying out and in. "Seriously, Sam. There's_ every_ type of salad in the world right here."

"Kids gonna be okay with all this green?" Sam says eyeing off some of the handywork that's been prepared.

Noelle rolls her eyes as she walks over and pinches Sam's cheeks. "You and Oliver and your preference for potato bake, you mean?"

Sam smells a waft of cheesy, bacon goodness then – and gives the women in his kitchen a huge smile. He hitches a thumb over his shoulder, "I'll just go give the meat the green light…"

…

When Sam gets over to the barbeque, Frank's left the post to tend to the baby and Rob's taken to kicking a ball with the kids

"We're good to go." Sam tells Tommy who is currently checking the heat on the grill. He looks away at Tommy's nod and rummages through the meat trays to help sort out what should go on first.

Tommy clears his throat and glances sideways at Sam. "You two made a good move."

Sam grins at McNally's father and hands him some meat. "We did."

(Tommy has never, ever said anything to Sam in direct terms about previously causing his little girl pain. It's a thing Sam felt pretty bad about at one point, actually – he figured Tommy bit his tongue the first time he went to visit him - because he knows that he wasn't always the type of father that he wanted to be.

So for that reason, Sam took it upon himself recently to reassure Tommy that he'd never let Andy down again.

Tommy had patted him on the shoulder and said the same thing he did to Andy just after she got back: "I know what it's like to struggle to cope with things, Sammy. You've got one another though – don't ever forget that again.")

"You think you guys might ever give me some grandkids?" Tommy says now with his lopsided grin. He's not looking at Sam as he asks, but he's got the damn tongs poking awfully close to the bone.

Sam chokes out a laugh and takes a step back. He's smiling like a lunatic though – with just the thought. He bites into his lip as he looks over at Andy – pictures a bunch of little hers and hims running around. Sam's mouth goes very dry as he answers the senior McNally, and he feels a blush rise to his cheeks. "I promise to try." Then, like the thought of getting Andy pregnant has prodded the beast within he requests a leave of absence from her father: "You, ah… okay with the meat?"

(It's not that being a father…one day… never crossed his mind before. It's just – well, he hardly thinks he'd know what to do. It's not like he ever had a proper one himself. But now he sees Oliver and Frank and Diaz –

And…

McNally would be a great mother. He knows that for sure).

….

When Sam makes it over to Andy, he's convinced she'll see….something….on his face. "I, ah..can I borrow you for a minute?" He tugs her away from her friends all of a sudden feeling like he wants her all to himself.

The yard and house is bustling around them with people and animals, so he jostles her into the garage.

"Sam…what...?"

He takes the question off her lips by kissing her hard.

Sooner or later he comes to his senses though – he actually does take the responsibility of host for this party seriously, he just –

"When, um.." Sam coughs out rubbing up and down Andy's sides. "When we can get a few days off…let's take a trip?"

Andy laughs loud and quirks her head. "You couldn't wait until our guests left before you asked me that?" But – she doesn't look annoyed with him at all; actually, she looks pretty pleased. She gets on her toes to bite at his jaw and takes hold of one of his hands. "Where you thinking of taking me?"

Sam shakes his head - to clear it more than anything else. He feels a bit breathless all of a sudden, he's got a thousand things he wants to say and do to her…for her. "Don't know." But, he flicks his head in the direction of the bike – which is now at least roadworthy. "Maybe we just ride."

Andy pops her head around his shoulder to look at it. She casts her eyes back to Sam. There's a grin on her face that gives him his answer, but she says it anyway with a couple of giggles and a "yes."

Sam would really, really like to get her in the truck…or anywhere right now; maybe talk to her about other stuff in the future –

_Jesus._

The way he's been feeling since they moved in together he'd actually _would_ go so far to test her out about hypothetical weddings and kids -

He freezes in his spot though when he hears a bash at the door…followed up by Shaw walking right on in.

Ollie's got an entirely puzzled and amused look on his face. He shakes his head and scoffs at them. "Party's out here, lovebirds." Then he walks on past the two of them to inspect some shelves. "You keep your mower fuel in here?"

Sam grabs at Andy's hand to tug her back outside. It's probably best they were interrupted. They're finding a brand new level of comfort with this moving in business, and he doesn't want to spook either of them... yet.

Sam tugs a little harder to keep Andy tucked into his side. He calls over his shoulder to Shaw: "Don't touch a thing."

…

Peck and Nash quirk some matching eyebrows at them when they re-join the yard. Sam could swear he heard Gail mutter something untoward under her breath, but now all he can think about is moving the party along.

…..

At some point during a discussion with Diaz, Andy disappears from his side.

When she gets back a few minutes later she nestles herself back under his arm and whispers into his ear. "Forgot to call Clair earlier today-"

(They have a weekly phone date, ever since Clair moved – unbelievably, in the weeks leading in to Sam and Andy's house hunting, her mother was still quizzing Andy whether she was absolutely sure…)

Sam holds McNally closer and bites at his lip.

…..

Ollie clinks at a glass as the cupcakes are served. "Listen up, people" he chuckles – with a wink over to Frank.

Andy's sitting on Sam's knee at the time chatting with Sarah about the prospect of bringing Sam's mother for a visit - a thing that both inspires and terrifies Sam.

(They found a suitable carer to do respite this weekend; she just wasn't quite up to making the trip and facing a party with strangers – as much as she wanted to come.

Sam and Andy have made some plans to get her here for a few days soon though; they really want her to feel like she's a part of their new home too).

McNally stops mid conversation and swivels her head to see why Shaw's decided to speak. Speeches were definitely not on the agenda this evening – aside Andy and Sam giving a quick, simple thanks –

"I'll save the truly embarrassing stories for engagement parties and their wedding night," Ollie half hollers – hoisting a glass in the air and throwing a wink their way. (There's a distinct possibility Shaw's on the other side of tipsy is what Sam thinks). Sam can feel Andy's blush radiating extreme fire danger against his cheek as she goes to hide her face near there. By this time Nash is side by side with Shaw, her own glass in hand.

"But – if ever any couple deserved an enormous amount of applause... well, these two do just by virtue of the fact they finally hauled their sorry..." Nash smacks a hand across Shaw's mouth to stop any expletives he might've been going to let out.

Nash keeps her hand their as she finishes the sentiment in a more eloquent way. "We.." she says with a sweeping gesture around the tent are all so happy you two finally found your way to one another...and by the looks of how things are now...it was all worth the wait." Nash takes a couple of moments to collect herself. "Thankyou for inviting us into your home... your life. You're both wonderful friends – and I know this marks the beginning of another chapter in -"

Ollie finally manages to get Traci's hand off his mouth in time to interrupt. He finishes off her sentence in his most saccharine voice: "One of the most frustrating... but ..._loveliest_...of love stories that we've ever known." Shaw starts fanning his face with a serviette and giggling like a teenager – which earns him a bit of a stern stare from Zoe, but some laughs from the kids – and everyone else. "What." He pouts over in the direction of his wife. "I'm their biggest fan."

Noelle stands up over in the other corner and raises her glass. "To Swarek and McNally...and their endless pursuit to keep us all entertained-" she smirks, but then before anyone else can give their cheers she turns her face and voice to serious. "And to their new home and happiness...we love you both."

Sam grips Andy's waist tight as everyone raises their glasses - she smiles bright down at him and leans in to kiss him soft on the lips.

They fumble themselves into a standing position eventually, Andy clinging on to Sam's hand. They're about as gobsmacked as one another really – neither quite sure of where to start, or what to say.

What they do manage to do between the pair of them is to thank everyone that helped with the move – and helped with today – as well as the fact that they've been showered with thoughtful gifts. With the pragmatics done, Sam musters up the courage to open his heart further -

"Personally, I'd also like to say thank you to all of you – our family – for being there for me...and for Andy...in the times that haven't been so great." Sam bites his lip to think of how to finish the speech. He turns to Andy to find the words he's looking for, but in her eyes he sees only one thing –

"And to the love of my life. I want you to know tonight and forever; _you_ are my home."

Andy reaches her arms up and wraps them around Sam's neck. Through some tears she squeaks out a croaky and wet "and you, mine." She gets to her toes to kiss him as the mob surrounding them erupts with applause.

...

"There's not a single taskforce or police operation in the world that would be better than what we've got now," Andy says joining Sam back on the porch later that night after seeing Traci, Chris and Leo out. She points to upstairs where Sam's family are roomed, whispering softly; "You think they're asleep?"

Sam nods his head and tells her quietly: "I think the Shaws wore 'em out." He's been clearing plates for a good 10 minutes now and is feeling a little beat himself.

Andy goes to head down into the yard – obviously on the hunt for any missed trash –

Sam catches her hands to stop her when he gets some second thoughts. The music is still playing super soft in the background – just enough to filter across the porch. He unravels their fingers and slides his hands across her back.

When he brings Andy in close to him her head finds his shoulder instantly, like its innate – after a few quiet moments she nuzzles her nose into his neck.

Sam runs one hand up to sift through her hair while the other moves to rest on her ribs.

They stand their motionless for a while: just the air, the stars, and them. The sway they start is tiny, this gentle rock to music they can barely even hear.

Sam closes his eyes and sees the future very clearly – so clear and obvious, it doesn't need a plan –

What he sees is the two of them, their dog, and their house. The house is warm and friendly and open; sometimes it has visitors – but other times it's just them. One day it will bustle more, but underneath all of that…there will still be a calm that Sam's only just beginning to learn can actually exist.

The house is often in need of…something to be done to it. It's a bit like the bike really…always in need of tinkering, or some sort of repair. The stuff they have reflects he and Andy, come to think of it; it's often a little bit messy and in need of some work -

But, the foundations are good and the framework is sturdy; any hole they find, they've already agreed to take a look… and fix it together. He's not so worried about something falling down anymore either – as long as she's there with him to help pick it up -

Really – well…for the first time in Sam's life, being with someone else in this situation feels…completely and utterly right.

Sam's fingers drag a trail all the way through Andy's hair; he puts his nose into the weight of it too – relishing the softness and scent.

After a few moments of breathing her in like that, his fingers skirt lightly over her cheek and toward he chin. Finally he lands them on the base of her neck.

He pinches at the chain she wears and runs it between two fingers until he reaches the locket that's on it. He holds on to the delicate silver piece he gave her the day they moved in here. ("Oh my god. Sam. It's…beautiful…" Andy smiled up at him on that day the smile he wants to never leave her face.)

He closes his eyes tighter as he leans in to kiss her; he thinks about the tiny picture it holds. It's the three of them – their little family, a picture Nash took one sunny day in the park. Even though the faces in it are so, so small, their smiles are obvious – the sun shining brightly and them all worn out with laughter because of a game.

Sam pulls back ever so slightly as he nudges her nose with his and commits the image to his senses. "Love you," he tells McNally softly.

"I love you too" Andy whispers, with a sleepy face as she looks up at him.

Sam bites his lip and then smiles at her. He holds her tight with everything he's got and he knows…really knows that _some_ day….

Andy McNally will be his wife.

...

End.

* * *

_A/N Thanks again for reading – and a special thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review along the way. _

_I have some ideas for a sequel or something of the sort before season 4 comes along and blows this story to pieces…but it's a case of time permitting, so...we'll see!_


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